*Preface - So pay attention. I should probably research the proper methodology and usages of a title and preface. But I'm too busy being aawesome. Sue me (please don't).

A month ago, an opening for a position in the endoscopy unit at the hospital I volunteer at was brought to my attention. I instantly considered it an upgrade over pushing around a snack cart. Not only did it fit into my schedule much better, but patient-care > food services in my books. I didn't even have to think twice about switching over.

But let me tell you a lil' sumthin' sumthin' 'bout 'ndoscopy.

That last apostrophe was totally unnecessary. But for consistency sakes, it had to be done. And what's done is did. You dig?

No? That's okay too.

Endoscopy.

Viewing the insides of your body by sticking a flexible camera tube apparatus through a bodily orifice. At least that's how I loosely define it. Contact a real doctor if you really want to know more. Just don't talk mention pediatrics. It makes him cry like a girl.

The aftereffects of an endoscopic procedure include feeling bloated. Really bloated. We ordered too much at an all-you-can-eat Japanese food restaurant and don't want to pay per piece so now we must all eat 10 pieces more than we would've liked, bloated. Like you just inhaled so much air that you could float in the sky for about five seconds before coming down to unleash an amazing barrage of smash attacks on your unsuspecting opponent(s)..., errr, bloated.

It's nearing the end of my university career. As such, creating memories is the name of the game at this time in life. Which is understandable, but an inordinate amount of "formal" dinners won't turn the trick.

Rabbits and hats will.

The way I figure, I'll either be too busy making sure I don't get any nasty stains on my nice clothes, or tugging at an uncomfortable tie all night long, to take in the moments passing me by.

Someone once said, "It's funny how time flies, I'm just having fun watching it fly by".

I also don't understand why we leave it till the last moment to dress up in nice clothes. Wouldn't it make more sense to do that as a first impression? Because the lasting memories won't be from a night out at the end of an era. They'll be all the things that happened in the middle (hopefully my memory will comply).

Few tell stories of how things end. Beginnings are much funner. You love the start, but really it's just to begin. It's going to be really hard when it gets to the end. Word to Kevin Drew and his whole crew.

The volleyball majestically soared over the net, rotating slow enough to make out the different colors painted on. For a second that seemed like eternity, it froze at the apex of its climb up the trajectory mountain. Then, as if infused with a ton of rocks, it dropped and thudded on impact.

Ever been mesmerized by the motion of the ball at a sporting event?

You have?!!?

*blush*

Aww shucks, look at us. We have interests in common. And I'm not talking about Common. However, hopefully everyone is interested in common sense, but sense isn't so common these days. Luckily, I was blessed with six.

Not really. But still, that whole last paragraph is mind blowing. You might want to go read it again. I'll wait.

*Doop dooby doo*

Hi, welcome back to the lecture at hand.

Ball watching. It's almost a sport in itself. Whether it's watching a football spiral through the air, or rapidly moving your head back and forth in futile attempts to follow a tennis ball bounce back and forth, I'd gather that most people do it.

I just don't know why I tend to ball watch while being an active participant in the game.

Le sigh.

If you are a male, you probably are not capable of acting out the title of this post.

(I know you just tried, like, right now...)

See, somebody once informed me of this, that guys were actually incapable of whispering. To which I angrily rasped back in a quieter voice, "Yes we can" (pre-Obama, so no word to Barack Hussein). It was not a whisper.

Whispering, as demonstrated by the two nurses in the endoscopy unit I currently volunteer at, is when you speak in such a way that a person standing a mere 3 feet away cannot hear a word you say.

No vocal chords.

(I know you're still working on that whisper, and some of you may have it!...that's okay...keep it coming)

Not that I was offended by the nurses whispering away 3 feet away from me. They almost have to to deliver outstanding patient care (the quieter the better whilst recovering from any invasive procedure). They even go so far as to answer the phone, walk over to the person being asked for on the phone, and whisper, "it's for you". This dumbfounded me, as I'm much more used to yelling from the basement to the upstairs kitchen, "hey, HEY, pick up the phone".

There wasn't much action happening in the endoscopy unit today. I studied how the nurses operated instead.

Speaking of. The mere fact that I'm back volunteering at a hospital four days after checking into one myself is not lost on me. I love my appendix and hope to keep it. Nurses and doctors have my respect not only for how they act, but how they acted towards me.

Uhm.

*hugz*

You didn't read that.

I can't decide which version of a photograph I snapped in the Dominican I like better. Authentic (with power lines), or Photoshopped (word to Jeff for the quick tutorial). Please vote. It's been bugging me for an entire day now.

OR

Some folks up on the third floor got into an argument at 3:00AM, and one person decided to storm out of the building, but not before pulling the fire alarm, you know, because when you're angry, anything goes. The building attendant person hasn't been able to turn off the fire alarm yet, so...

...time to blog!

I've recently self-confessed to writing a mock GMAT exam for no good reason other than to keep my mind sharp mathematically. Similarly, I sacrificed 2 hours of my past Wednesday night to attend a music lecture.

*I hear fire trucks coming...this is getting out of hand*

My instincts are rather nerdy/geeky/book-loving, however you want to label it. But after a good number of years of institutionalized education, one of the greatest things I have come to learn about is myself.

That's good, because I don't really want anyone to know me better than I know myself, right?

Right.

*Sidenote - Have you heard the unplugged version of Rihanna's Umbrella? At first, I wasn't that excited that she was a part of the Glow In The Dark Tour, but you know what, I won't be offended if she gets to hog the stage for a second. And, this song that was once soooo 2007 has now become a big part of my 2008. And I will forever add "ella ella" to any word rhyming with umbrella. Forever never ever seems that long.

Anyways, the alarm is off for good. Stammering on would prove futile anyways.

I don't want to say goodbye to you, so I'll just say goodnight to you.

Yesterday, the local nerd squad booted me from a school computer lab as I was completing work for an assignment because they needed to prep the room for a LAN party. While I found the lack of forewarning a little ridiculous, the notion that school property would be unavailable for the next 24 hours due to a LAN party was hesitatingly amusing.

With my newfound (forced) free time away from the lab, I went and wrote a mock GMAT exam today, with no intentions of writing the real exam in the future.

Now who's being ridiculous.

But it reminded me of those high school math contests that I eagerly signed up for (cut a period of class AND do math? win-win). Remember those? Those were so fun, until you were informed that you didn't end up in a top percentile.