Feeling oldish. 15 years since I started University. 20 years since I started grade eight (aka: THE BEST GRADE EVER.) 30 years since Ghostbusters was released. Also Ariel is 41 now or something? Jesus.
My personal library has officially spilled over to the second tall bookcase. I am intensely proud of this.
I am convinced that the deepest desire within each of us is to be liberated from the controlling influences of our own psychic madness or patterns of fear. All other things—the disdain of ordinary life, the need to control others rather than be controlled, the craving for material goods as a means of security and protection against the winds of chaos—are external props that serve as substitutes for the real battle, which is the one waged within the individual soul.
"Ugh, I’m just nostalgic for the feel of clay tablets." - person to someone reading a papyrus book, 2400BC
What is one’s personality, detached from that of the friends with whom fate happens to have linked one? I cannot think of myself apart from the influence of the two or three greatest friendships of my life, and any account of my own growth must be that of their stimulating and enlightening influence.
—Edith Wharton, A Backward Glance
So for some reason, my coworkers and I are discussing allergies this morning, and by “for some reason” I mean because I was thinking about baking some walnut banana bread and bringing it into work, but one of my coworkers is deathly allergic to nuts BUT STILL KEEPS HIS EPIPEN IN HIS CAR BY THE WAY and then the conversation turned into a debate about whether or not I could - in a pinch - trach someone with a Crystal Bic pen. I’ve seen Grey’s Anatomy. I could do it.
Allergies are a screwed up thing. It’s the body’s response to a perceived threat - everything swells up in an effort to prevent a foreign substance from spreading, and it can get sort of counterproductive when your windpipe swells shut. Like, thankfully the worst allergic reaction I’ve had made me look like this guy:
Legit. I was using Proactive and after one day, my face was itchy like a thousand fire ants were all up in there, and then by day two I was unrecognizable. I also drove myself to the emergency room because my parents were sleeping and I didn’t want to disturb them, despite my trachea slowly closing. Daughter of the Year?
Anyway, the question now becomes: do I make the walnut banana bread? I mean, there’s really only one way to find out if the ten solid years of watching Grey’s Anatomy has, in fact, taught me anything.
47 days until the 2014-15 television season begins, and THANK GOD FOR THAT.