Les amants, les rêveurs, et moi ...

New image from the set of Iron Man 2 showing a glimpse of Tony's desk, courtesy of The HD Room



New-ish pics




Newspaper clippings

Ok, everything is relatively clear right now as compared to two weeks ago. I've no excuse to put off preparing for it. So the goal is at least 3 hours a day preparing for the board exam. The rest of the time will be focused on preparing for class exams.

I felt I needed to put that in writing. So here ya go ...

Some days ago, someone told me of something that happened during lab. It was nothing exceptionally important. Basically, they had posted what were the former occupations and ages of death of the cadavers in the lab. Guy #1 approaches Guy #2 who was working at another lab table and say: "So, what was your cadaver before?"

"A janitor."

Guy #1 laughs out loud.

"Excuse me, what is so funny about that?" says Guy #2

"Dude, your guy is just a janitor."

Guy #2 lectures Guy #1, and rightfully so.

Just think about this: Guy #1 could be your doctor someday. I shudder to think about it.

I moved out here last week with my sisters who stayed with me for a few days afterwards. We did the tourist-y things, see the sights and landmarks, etc. It was all good fun, albeit costly.

A couple of days ago they headed for home a thousand miles away and I was left in my new "apartment" -- a house which I was to share with 3 other people, at least from my understanding. The rent price for the room (and it's understood that I will have the downstairs bathroom pretty much to myself)? Well, let's just say it's $950, everything included. Now I'm not familiar with the area and how much an average rent in this place should be property should be but I thought it was a good deal. It's cheaper than the single apartment that I was considering back then.

When I got here, the house was a mess. I understand that though, since the previous tenants were in the process of moving. Still, the place wasn't exactly how I pictured it to be. There were certain things that I expected to be there but they were not there. My older sister didn't seem to like the place off the bat because it seemed dirty but I sucked it up and defended the place, hoping it'll get better. I didn't want her reporting to my parents that I've picked a rotten tomato of a place; I didn't want them to worry. And admittedly, it has gotten better. Why just today, we cleaned the kitchen/dining area and it looks more than decent now.

Backing up: even a month ago I've already begun having second thoughts about the amount of money the room will be costing me. It's in a city that's considered a bit craptastic in a location of the city that's even more craptastic than the city itself. Rent SHOULD be cheap. After I've sent my security deposit, I would see other room-for-rent ads for students and the rent for those rooms were around $600 on average without utilities. I began feeling like a sucker.

Yesterday I hung out with one of my new roommates and one of the departing tenants. I haven't paid the rent for August yet but my roommate told me that she had already. She paid $1300 -- that's $900 for her rent and $400 for the remaining security deposit. That amount took me aback since (1) I misunderstood the concept of "security deposit", (2) That will seriously deplete my bank account to a level that is unacceptable, and (3) Financial aid doesn't kick in for another two weeks. Not only that but apparently, one of the rooms will be shared by two people and another person will be staying for six months. That makes 6 people living in one house, which isn't really bad. But come on, isn't it that case that the more roommates you have, the cheaper the rent should be?

The departing tenant, "Jim", said that the rent that we will be paying is practically highway robbery. In fact, the guy who used to rent my room only paid around $700/mo. and he had a freakin' dog with him. My rent is nearly as much as the rent for the master's bedroom, which is much bigger than my current room and has a walk-in closet and a private full bathroom. We then started exchanging concerns about the rent and the house. In fact, today we went to Jim's new place. He's renting a room in this house in the nicer part of the city. The house looked new (though it's supposedly old), his room is bigger than the one he had ... it was generally a better place and he's only paying $500. With utilities, that will be $600-700 tops. Now I felt foolish and all I could think about was how to confront the property manager, "Fred", about the whole thing.

I'm non-confrontational and prone to tears so I didn't know how to go about it. This was all I could think about since yesterday though. This morning, I was checking my email and found an ad for a room-for-rent nearby that's only $500 without utilites (or $580 for the larger room). "That's a better deal," I thought to myself. I then figured that I will talk to him about the rent tonight since today is August 1st and rent is technically due.

Well ... I just talked to him. I told him that I was concerned about the price of the rent, how my room is not worth THAT much, and how I found another place that would be around $700 with utilities. I told him that I would love to stay in this house since it's close to school but only if the rent is reasonable, between $700-800 ... I hope I made that clear and didn't come across as insisting on "$700 or no rent" because I would actually take $750. Well, he said he'll think things over and will get back to me either late tonight (if I'm still up) or tomorrow morning. It's a bit of relief that after the confrontation I went back to my room for ten minutes and when I came out, my roommate was talking to him, probably about the same thing.

So right now I'm lying on my hot room, typing away as "Scrubs" plays in the background. I'm beginning to have second thoughts about the whole confrontation, whether I came on too strong or too weak, if he'll listen and be reasonable, or if I'll have to move out by the weekend. Come to think of it, if he decides NOT to be reasonable and kick me out, those two people rooming together wouldn't have to room together anymore since one of them could get my room ... which is pretty bad on my bargaining part.

I don't know. I'm just hoping for the best now. Come on, LL. Please be reasonable.

That's Mermal, my cat. I let him out in the garden this morning after eating as I got ready to run some errands. As I was leaving, I tried to call him in 'cause I don't know how long I'll be out and I wanted him inside the house. For a couple of minutes there was no response but soon after, I heard some scampering through the fence and bushes. Mermal appeared to have come from my neighbor's backyard and looked a little bit scared. His tail was puffed out and he ran straight for the backdoor, which he doesn't usually do unless he REALLY wants to go back inside.

Alrighty then. So I let him inside and the first thing he did was flop down on the floor, which was understandable considering how hot it was outside and how cool the floor was. But when I saw him walking it appeared as though he was limping on his right hindleg. I panicked, called the vet, and scheduled an appointment right away by noon.

On one hand it might be serious. On the other hand, it could be nothing. The thing is, last week I saw one of his paws with dried blood and I panicked then. I took him to the vet, only to find out that he chipped a claw just right by the quick, hence the blood. All the vet did was cut the chipped nail and voila, he was fine. I could have done THAT myself. I felt like an overprotective mother -_-

I felt both his hindlegs; no broken bones it seems. His paw pads don't look cut, pricked, or anything. No broken claws. He is eating fine, able to jump, plays around, runs, defecate (eww), etc. Actually right now he's a little hyperactive, as per his norm. It's just that slight limp that bothers me.

It may very well be a sprain. When I checked on him in the garden earlier, he was on the fence, balancing himself as he watched the birds fly low. He was startled and lost his footing; he caught his right thigh in the fence. It looked a bit painful to me to a point that I cringed on his behalf him. I tried to take him inside then but he seemed alright and didn't want to go.

He's completely normal save for that slight limp. I ended up cancelling the vet appointment and will stick to observing him for a couple of days. If it doesn't get better, then obviously ...

Here's a very short, straight-to-the-point account of how I ended up sharing a room with a kitty cat:

One Sunday night in February, I found three stray kittens living out and about our street.

Ever since, I took to feeding these kittens and setting out a place for them to sleep in our porch.

I was the unofficial owner though I am not allowed to have pets.

I've never had a pet before.

One Sunday night in March two of the kittens disappeared. I never saw them again.

The only one left was the cute gray-and-white tabby kitten.

I felt sorry for the lonely kitty so I tried spent a lot of time with it when I'm outside.

Three weeks ago, an unusually cold weather swept Texas. Temperature dropped to 44F and it was raining for two days.

Because of the crappy weather, I was allowed to take the kitten inside so long that it remains in the den/patio.

The kitten's been living with us ever since.

We named him "Mermal" after the annoyingly cute gray tabby kitten from "Garfield".

He's lounging on the new bed blanket by the foot of my bed as I type this.

He either stays in the den or in my room, mostly in my room though.

I think I'm allergic to him because ever since, I've started getting hives. Then again, maybe it's just psychosomatic.

He's a lot of work -- again, I've never had a pet so I'm not sure how to go about things really. But ... he's adorable.

*whispers* He's asleep now. He was sleeping earlier this night and there was a point when his tail and legs were twitching. Maybe he was dreaming ... *whispers*


Nermal from "Garfield," Mermal's almost-namesake


Mermal and his brother


Mermal sleeping. Taken a few weeks ago when his siblings were still around

I'm starting to get very sleepy right now because of the anti-histamine tablets that I took for the hives.

I've never had a problem with the post office. I go there regularly whether it's for stamps, money orders, or sending packages. Most of the time I've found the workers to be nice and friendly.

The other day I checked the mailbox and there was a registered mail receipt. Apparently the mailman didn't find anyone in the house to sign for it ... even though I was at home that whole freakin' day. Lazy ass didn't bother getting out of his fancy car to ring the doorbell and check. Ok then, strike one against the post office.

Yesterday I went down to the main post office to retrieve the package. The clerk that I talked to said that the package must be retrieved by the very same man the package was for (in this case, my father) unless he designates another person (me) to pick it up by signing in the given space on the receipt. I showed him that it was signed to be picked up by me. So, he then goes at the backroom to look for the package. After 30 minutes of waiting, he comes back to tell me that he package must still be with my carrier because he can't find it, that most likely it'll be in the office tomorrow. Ok then. Strike two against the post office.

Today, I went down the post office and was handled by this lady. I figured it would be no big deal, that the package would be there and all I need to do is to show the receipt, as was yesterday. So I gave her the receipt.

She then asks for a picture and signed ID of my father.

Well, I don't have one.

I told her that the man yesterday said that all I needed was to show the receipt with MY picture ID (since I was the designated pick-up). She said no, that I need to have an ID of my dad. Alright-y then, I went back home and looked all over to find a picture ID of my dad with his signature (it was an expired Mastercard). I went back to the post office, showed the lady the receipt, my driver's license, and my dad's old Mastercard. I thought it'll be alright.

Now she tells me that the signatures don't match. You see, in the receipt, they don't really give you a lot of space to sign in and so my dad had signed using his first name initial and then his last name. In his Mastercard, he signed completely with his first and last names.

I pointed out to the lady the fact that his freakin' name -- the very same name that appears on the freakin' receipt -- appears on the credit card. But noooo, the signatures have to completely match up to the dot on the "i". And unless they match, I can't get the package. And she was really bitchy about the whole thing too.

Strike three, post office.

I went home pissed off. Hell, I'm pissed off enough to actually blog about it to let out steam. My dad isn't around and won't be until ... I don't know. And I really needed to read some part of that book (yes, the package was a book) by this weekend.

Long story short? The post office and most of its employees suck. I thought it was only a myth but no, they really do suck.

Yet I'll probably go back there tomorrow to try again. Maybe bitchy lady won't be around this time (I want to inject her with smallpox).

AAAARRRGGH!!!

Yesterday I was driving at around 7 in the morning. I was still a little sleepy so I suppose I wasn't as alert as I should be. I got on the highway and when I was pretty close to my destination, I got off. From the highway I needed to switch lanes because I was going to make a right turn at the coming intersection.

As I said, I was still a little sleepy so when I made my lane switch, I didn't look behind me if there was a car or anything in the lane that I was switching to. I just relied my rearview mirror (yeah, I know about the blind spots). So as soon as I made the switch, I realized that there WAS a car (appeared on my rearview mirror) and it was pretty damn close. Suffice it to say I cut her off. Had she been driving faster or I slower, or perhaps if her reaction time had been slower, then I would have gotten into an accident.

I felt a little guilty about it, since oftentimes petty mistakes result in grave consequences. Lesson learned: be alert regardless.

I finished my holiday Christmas shopping today. Tonight my sister and I were supposed to do the grocery shopping for the family Christmas dinner but then she totally fucks screws up that plan. So now it's midnight and I'm too sleepy lazy and can't be bothered to go out where it's surprisingly cold (for Texas weather) and heavily raining.

As I get older, I am slowly convinced that Christmas is essentially a children's holiday and it's never like how they show it on television or in the movies. Still, I'm not going to act like a Grinch to those who feel the spirit of the holidays that I can barely feel.

Hopefully things will pick up tomorrow when it's not raining like some heavenly creature up there is crying giant teardrops. Happy Christmas :)

I went to a different church today and ate a late lunch - a big one - afterwards. Now it's almost 4pm, I'm freakin' full, and I can't remember what I'm supposed to be doing right now. So ... I decided to write down something in this criminally underused LJ blog.


Heh, I first signed up for LJ so that I can participate in the House MD and Hugh Laurie discussions :) I was a Xanga drone first.


Oh, and if I can dole out any advice to college or high school students, it's to take a year off before heading to graduate school or professional school or even work. I'm currently taking a year off and I can't remember when I've been this relaxed. Three years of my college can be summed up as "21-hour semesters of mostly science classes". My final year was a mix of science and English courses. Right now I'm taking a couple of English classes and spending the remainder of my days just working (teaching assistant, hardly a difficult job), writing, or generally bumming about. It's great!


I've just bought Final Fantasy XII and I haven't played a video game for, I don't know, 3-4 years. This should be interesting if I don't get too bored.


Now I remember what I was supposed to do! Ta-ta!