It's all Greek to me

I signed up to do research this summer. All my friends told me that was the stupidest decision I've ever made. They said it was the last summer of freedom I'll ever have. That I should go travel Europe. Or lay by the pool all summer. Two problems: I don't have the funds to go to Europe. And I don't have the skin type to sit by the pool. I'd turn into one big freckle. Research seemed like the logical thing to do. I'd get paid. I'd learn a ton. I'd get my foot in the door at the hospital and the medical school. I'd be ahead of the game compared to the rest of my classmates. I'd enhance my CV. The list goes on and on. Still, part of me was wanting to have a relaxing summer before the chaos starts in August. But it is time to grow up. Time to be responsible for the first time in my life.

I've never done research before. I've never worked in a lab. I've never taken a medical school class. So I was already intimidated before I stepped foot in the Markey Cancer Center at the University of Kentucky this past week. But I figured my boss would understand this and would give me a project that I could handle. Let me take a second to introduce you to my boss - Dr. Natasha Kyprianou. She is as Greek as they come. She is a go-getter. Intense. Intelligent. Enthusiastic. I am glad I have been to Greece so that I can truly appreciate her. The first time I sat down with her in her office, we discussed American politics for 30 minutes before we ever got to what I'd be doing in the lab this summer. My gut told me not to get into a debate with my boss about the upcoming election and the current president, so I attempted to just nod and agree with what she was saying, but when she directly asked me, "Do you like Bush?" "What do you think about the war?", it's hard to skirt around the issues. So I told her my two cents, and we had a very intellectual, amiable discussion about the political scene in America over the past ten years. I enjoyed our conversation very much. She was a staunch Democrat, and I am obviously not, but we were civil and both had the opportunity to put our beliefs on the table. She grew up in a very political family in Greece, where her father was in the Parliament and eventually became mayor of Athens! This lady is really into her politics. She told me afterwards that she enjoyed our discussion because most people in my generation don't give a care about politics. She was impressed with how articulate I was. 1 point for Jones!

We finally moved on to what I will be doing this summer. And I wish I could tell you what it is that I am going to be doing, but it is top secret. Actually, I can't tell you because I have no idea what I am going to be doing. She spent 30 minutes telling me, but it was so over my head that all I picked up was that I will be curing prostate cancer. Superb! Then she handed me six journal articles that I need to read before next week so that I will have a good background before I start the actual experiments (where I get to castrate mice...woohoo). I can honestly say that I only know 1 in 5 words in these journal articles. I think it's time to invest in a medical dictionary. I am in WAY over my head.

But she told me that I will get my name published with the article, so that's great news! Then she asked if I was a good writer. I thought she was asking because she might want me to look over the article before it gets sent to the journals, so I said that writing probably comes easier to me than most because of my history major, and she said "Great, you will also be writing a chapter in my book this summer. Of course I will critique it, but you will be in charge of writing it." WHAT?! I am supposed to cure cancer and write a chapter in 8 weeks!? I didn't realize I was superwoman.

There's still hope

Just when everyone is proclaiming that America is losing its luster, that she is not what she used to be, that everything is looking glum, she goes and does something like this....and totally redeems herself! First she votes in Kristi Yamaguchi as the champion of Dancing with the Stars. Though she is not as popular as Jason Taylor, doesn't quite have the personality, or the charm, as the NFL superstar, America still sees that she is the better dancer. Americans followed their moral conscience to vote for the superior talent instead of just making it a popularity contest.

Next, American votes for David Cook to be the new American Idol instead of teenage heart throb David Archuleta. The latter David has the better voice, is more talented vocally, and has the eyes to melt any 14 year old girl in America, but America saw that he doesn't have "it". He can't handle the media. He laughs like a little girl when he is interviewed. He only sings one genre: love ballads. David Cook is mature, confident yet gracious, and even more importantly, creative. He will make his own, unique album like no one else in America. I will buy his CD. I wouldn't have bought Archuleta's. David Cook may not be easy on the eyes, but he still has "it". America comes through, again.

Lastly, I will sleep well tonight, after having witnessed an incredible thing tonight on TV. In the midst of trials and tribulations with natural disasters in China and Myanmar, as gas prices reach $4/gallon, and as distasteful words are constantly shared between presidential candidates, a glimmer of hope was found. For one small moment on television, the world was right. All the problems of the world faded away. Meredith Grey figured out her problems. She dealt with them and then she went to the man she loved. Derek and Meredith kissed!! When the writers of Grey's Anatomy could have left us hanging in this season finale like they have the previous 3 seasons, they didn't. They realized that America couldn't handle that right now. We needed something. We needed to be able to believe in love again. We needed to see that there is still good in the world. And they gave that to us.

Thank you, America, for restoring hope back into the world. There ain't no doubt I love this land. God bless the USA.

Oh, what's that? You want my opinion?...

Freebirds > Qdoba > Chipotle

Billy Gillispie > Mark Turgeon

Manchester United > Chelsea

Coca Cola > Pepsi

Adidas > Nike

Blogging > Facebook

Football (soccer) > Football (American)

Hillary > Obama > Edwards

SEC > Big XII

Pistons > Celtics

Spurs > Mavericks

Air Force > Army > Navy

Grey's Anatomy > House

Boys > Girls*

Cats > Dogs

Why, Justin, Why > Elisabeth's Explanations

Mac > PC

Iron Man > Spiderman > Batman > Superman

Chocolate > Vanilla

Briefs > Boxers**

Wal-Mart > Target

Thanksgiving > Christmas

Spirit of Aggieland > everything


*at sports.
**if I were a guy.

You should see the other guy...

Well I am going to go ahead and let the cat out of the bag. Why? Because I don't feel like I have anything to hide. Nothing to be embarrassed of here. I broke my nose three times throughout my athletic career: when I was twelve in a soccer game, when I was a senior in high school (by Shannon Novosell...the 7 foot freak that played for Lexington Catholic who elbowed me when going up for a rebound in basketball), and the final time being this past soccer season during the warm up (yes, warm up) against Texas Tech (we were scrimmaging and our goalie punted it and it was coming towards me and I was sitting there waiting for it, preparing to take it down with my chest, when Micah Stephens pushed me last second in the back and the ball hit me straight in the face). There were tears all three times. Yet, no blood. But the damage was still done, and I have been living with a crooked nose for 11 years.


Now that my illustrious soccer career is complete and I am about to head out to a whole new world of medicine (which I can only imagine to be identical to Grey's Anatomy, which means if I am going to get McDreamy, I gotta bring my A game), my parents and I decided it was the perfect time to get my nose fixed. So this past Tuesday I got it done. It was quite an odd sensation waking up in the middle of surgery, feeling them pounding away at my nose, just like in the movies. But I was enjoying it too much to say anything, so I laid there with my eyes closed and just cherished the moment. But the awkward part came when I had to decide how long it was appropriate to pretend like I was still drugged up and eventually come to. Apparently I did it well because I heard the doctor tell my mother afterwards that "everything went well, she slept right through it all!".


So this week I've been laying low, watching movies, taking insane amounts of pills, sleeping a ton, throwing up, and facebooking an embarrassing amount of my life away. I can't talk well because my face is still numb, so I've ignored most calls. Text if you want to contact me. :)


But just for your entertainment, I will show a picture of what I look like. This was taken a few days ago, and the swelling and bruising have both gone down a bit. But feel free to laugh. I would too if it were physically possible. Good thing is, you shouldn't even be able to tell a difference when you see me next because it's so subtle, but I will have my straight nose back. Yay!

Goodbye Texas. Howdy Kentucky.

It's official. I'm a college graduate (or as we Aggies like to say, a former student). I am no longer a resident of the great state of Texas. I walked Friday morning, packed up the U-Haul, made one last stop at Layne's and Sweet Eugenes, blared the Aggie War Hymn as I rolled out of Aggieland, and made the 1000 mile trek to Lexington, Kentucky with my mom in the trusty Camry and my dad driving the macho, manly truck.

To be honest, I thought it was going to be a lot harder than it was to leave. During the early stages of the packing process last week, I broke down three times and cried my eyes out, as I found old love letters, sifted through 3 years of tests and papers (for some reason I found it very sentimental - I had somehow forgotten about that 74 I got on a physics test or the 76 on an organic chemistry test), and thought of all the great times I had as an Aggie. But when the clock finally struck graduation day, my tear ducts were dry as could be. I credit that to the Man Upstairs.

The trip home was exactly what I had hoped for: 17 hours of bonding time with my mama. We laughed our back sides off joking around, had lots of heart-to-heart talks, jammed to some oldies music, and got ourselves into trouble. Like the time I was driving and my mom was in the passenger seat. My dad had been leading us in the Penske truck for a few hours and we had finally caught up after making a pit stop, so I sped up to pass him and my mama started making kissy faces and smashed her lips up against the window, only to find out as we passed that it was not my dad, just some other random guy driving another Penske truck. I quickly sped off to save my mama from even more embarrassment.

Or when we stopped outside of Nashville to fill up with gas for the last time. As we were pulling back on to the interstate, my dad cut off a middle-aged woman in an Escalade and she was just about fit to be tied. She got right up on my dad's tail, was honking her brains out, then to cap things off, gaive a strong, firm flick off, leaving the bird up for at least 15 seconds as she sped on by. To make things even better, my dad was completely oblivious and did not even know that happened til we got home and I brought it up.

Just as I crossed the Kentucky border we hit construction. I luckily got caught between two cars that wanted to go over the speed limit, so I willingly followed their lead, but the white van behind me was sitting close to my tail. I could tell he wanted to get by me but he was stuck in the one lane. When it finally opened up to two lanes, he promptly got in the other lane and sped up. I curiously looked over just to get a look at the guy, and I found two middle-aged men throwing up the t.u. "hook 'em" sign. I gave an absolutely disgusted look (the best I could think of on the spot) and gave a strong "gig 'em" right back to them. They laughed, we exchanged smiles, and they sped off. I love being an Aggie. My mom then started singing the "Spirit of Aggieland" at the top of her lungs. I joined in, and we put on a performance of a lifetime.

I don't think it has hit me that I am in Kentucky for good. I still feel like I am just on vacation. But a few prescriptions of anti-depressants and staying busy at work (researching prostate cancer all summer) will hopefully make the transition easier. Although the weather (50 and raining) isn't helping at all.

Debbie Downer

Graduating from college is very anticlimactic when you know that the four hardest years of your educational career are looming. So while my friends are off celebrating their last finals ever, the only thing I can celebrate is the end of having a life and getting away with procrastinating for the last 5 years of my life.

At least I'm putting off entering the real world until I'm 27. :)

The List

I have concocted a list of things I would like to do before leaving the great city of College Station this coming Friday. I have 115 hours remaining in Texas, and I plan on going out in style. I fully plan on doing each of these, although finals and packing may get in the way. As you will see, there is a common theme throughout my list: food. I have my priorities straight, I know.

• Take a late night walk through campus, soaking in the atmosphere of Aggieland, reminiscing about memories, and experiencing what it feels like to be an Aggie student one last time.
• Enjoy a delicious slice of Antonio's pizza at 2am.
• Study in the MSC Flag Room and listen to a random person play their heart out on the piano.
• Get one last sip of Layne's Dr. Pepper (with no ice).
• Pond hop.
• Catch a meal at Sbisa...never been there.
  
• Photograph A&M's campus, specifically the Bonfire Memorial.
• Finally make all those CDs I promised my friends.
• Grab a blueberry donut and java shake from Sweet Eugenes.
• Northgate.
• Taste true Texas bbq and sweet tea one last time.
• Buy a Freebirds t-shirt.
• Pull an all-nighter with friends, just hanging out.
• Write letters to all those who touched me while in Aggieland.
• Finally go to The Tap for piano bar on Wednesday night.
• Finally go to Cafe Eccel.
• Step on the Fightin' Texas Aggie soccer field one last time.
• Hug all my friends goodbye.
• Cry a lot -- ok this isn't on my list of things to do, but I know it will happen...I've already broken down twice.