Love child of a raisin and a sharpei
I HAVE WRINKLES. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
WTF?
OK just had to get that out of my system.
I always thought I'd be one to embrace the aging process but seriously, it's depressing. Especially when I have a genetic duplicate running around with no wrinkles and whom my mother can use to go "See? Why don't you take better care of your skin? Joanne doesn't have wrinkles!"
And I can't argue. She's the genetically identical version of me that shows all the potential of what my skin and weight could be if I didn't fry it travelling so much and sleep-depriving and stressing myself out with vet school/an internship.
On the plus side, with my sharpei-like skin, maybe clients will believe me more when I tell them I'm a real doctor and not a 12 year old with a stethescope around her neck.
Oof.
Intern party is tonight. I've heard some crazy sh*t goes down there. (i.e. our internship supervisor who's married with four kids takes off his shirt, runs around in a wife-beater and tries to grind with anyone and anything in a 2m radius. It's his way of being friendly (no really, he's just a friendly guy with a heart of gold who is a little grind-happy). Did I mention he doesn't actually drink alcohol?).
We were warned to just sit quietly at our table and ignore the madness and the out-going interns have promised to deflect any grinding coming our way.
Grinding has to be #3 or 4 on Vivian's "scary beyond all reason" List.
Centipedes, the she-mulletted animal technician from vet school and old abandoned hospitals also go on that list.
Hey, ice princesses don't handle unwanted physical contact very well at all. Especially anything to do with pelvises (or, as most of you know about me, someone trying to touch or smell my hair).
Honestly, is anything more creepy? Especially for someone who even thinks handshakes are pushing the limits of physical contact.
Off to go shopping with my new roomie. Don't worry. Nothing frivolous. (How frivolous can I get if I'm getting paid below minimum wage to live in one of the most affluent places in the world? case in point, one lady who lives here said: "I'm going to get my hair blown out. That's what you can do when you're rich.").
I'm only buying a little cheap notebook today in which I can scribble drug doses/protocols and other random things I need to look up so that I don't accidentally kill one of my patients. It has to be thick enough to contain all the stuff I don't know and will need written down, but small enough to hide in my scrubs pocket so the clients don't catch on.
I'm also desperately seeking a SIGG water bottle seeing as there have been some nasty accusations against my dear dear Nalgene bottle which has been with me since the beginning of vet school that it is trying to give me cancer.
Normally, I'd laugh at all "it's going to give you cancer" claims, especially as I've probably got enough arsenic in my system to give me cancer (and make me age prematurely? hmmmm . . . ) anyways. The problem is, I was limited in space and weight in my luggage on the way down and had to leave my dear Nalgene bottle behind in Canadia. Woe is me!
How am I ever to battle these wrinkles if I'm dehydrated?!
And so, I must be off now to look for my notebook and water bottle.
That's what you can do when you're [not] rich.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
WTF?
OK just had to get that out of my system.
I always thought I'd be one to embrace the aging process but seriously, it's depressing. Especially when I have a genetic duplicate running around with no wrinkles and whom my mother can use to go "See? Why don't you take better care of your skin? Joanne doesn't have wrinkles!"
And I can't argue. She's the genetically identical version of me that shows all the potential of what my skin and weight could be if I didn't fry it travelling so much and sleep-depriving and stressing myself out with vet school/an internship.
On the plus side, with my sharpei-like skin, maybe clients will believe me more when I tell them I'm a real doctor and not a 12 year old with a stethescope around her neck.
Oof.
Intern party is tonight. I've heard some crazy sh*t goes down there. (i.e. our internship supervisor who's married with four kids takes off his shirt, runs around in a wife-beater and tries to grind with anyone and anything in a 2m radius. It's his way of being friendly (no really, he's just a friendly guy with a heart of gold who is a little grind-happy). Did I mention he doesn't actually drink alcohol?).
We were warned to just sit quietly at our table and ignore the madness and the out-going interns have promised to deflect any grinding coming our way.
Grinding has to be #3 or 4 on Vivian's "scary beyond all reason" List.
Centipedes, the she-mulletted animal technician from vet school and old abandoned hospitals also go on that list.
Hey, ice princesses don't handle unwanted physical contact very well at all. Especially anything to do with pelvises (or, as most of you know about me, someone trying to touch or smell my hair).
Honestly, is anything more creepy? Especially for someone who even thinks handshakes are pushing the limits of physical contact.
Off to go shopping with my new roomie. Don't worry. Nothing frivolous. (How frivolous can I get if I'm getting paid below minimum wage to live in one of the most affluent places in the world? case in point, one lady who lives here said: "I'm going to get my hair blown out. That's what you can do when you're rich.").
I'm only buying a little cheap notebook today in which I can scribble drug doses/protocols and other random things I need to look up so that I don't accidentally kill one of my patients. It has to be thick enough to contain all the stuff I don't know and will need written down, but small enough to hide in my scrubs pocket so the clients don't catch on.
I'm also desperately seeking a SIGG water bottle seeing as there have been some nasty accusations against my dear dear Nalgene bottle which has been with me since the beginning of vet school that it is trying to give me cancer.
Normally, I'd laugh at all "it's going to give you cancer" claims, especially as I've probably got enough arsenic in my system to give me cancer (and make me age prematurely? hmmmm . . . ) anyways. The problem is, I was limited in space and weight in my luggage on the way down and had to leave my dear Nalgene bottle behind in Canadia. Woe is me!
How am I ever to battle these wrinkles if I'm dehydrated?!
And so, I must be off now to look for my notebook and water bottle.
That's what you can do when you're [not] rich.
posted by Viv at 10:38 a.m.
1 Comments:
Joanne also got to spend a few years in a land of fog and rain, no sun and no UV. It's okay Vivian, at least Asian women tend to age better than Caucasian women.
btw, Loki (one of the two two year old cats that we adopted from the humane society last January) is overweight but we have always had him on weight reduced food and Meeko is a beautiful skinny cat, he bites, he farts, he chews on Georgia's expensive shoes (which she has like 300+ of, I think Joanne would fall in love with Georgia's shoe closets, and he chews on things like a dog...can I sue you for that?
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