Rants & Raves

Why do I get the feeling I am the only webdesigner-slash-writer who isn't capable of "inventing" a friggin layout for my own journal-slash-blog-slash-crap? My fingers are itching for a layout. In a couple of weeks, (well, 2 weeks approximately if not exact) I'll be turning eighteen. And still, I do not have a goddamn layout. Merde.merde.merde. God works in mysterious ways. I hope, i wish, i pray, I would get my laptop.

It is still raining outside however, I am still procrastinating (by writing nonsense) instead of researching for my Drug Study, which is composed of a gazillion drugs I'm supposed to memorize by tomorrow. So anyway, as I started saying earlier, I will be turning eighteen, I still do not have a life. My aunt called me up out of the blue to tell me that I'm actually going to have a debut. My jaw dropped. Literally. How in Mrs. Smith's pantyshorts am I going to come up with party ideas in two weeks. Plus I have a whole bunch of workload that wouldn't even fit my schedule. Minus more sleep hours for me then. Well, I managed to draw up a list of people that would hopefully come. I dunno. Sixty. seventy. tops. I don't even feel like partying. I had wanted to hear bands at my so-called party. Well, I guess things would be different. Note to self: Hire party people and put party plan into action.

I slept the whole day after duty yesterday. Was too lazy to get up to buy groceries with Irish. Chris, my supposed "other-half", was supposed to come but didn't. I don't know what is up with guys these days. They ditch you, for countless hours of playing computer games, which I really wouldn't mind if it were me playing. I'd looooooooove to get my hands on my computer, but noooo, it's halfway across the gulf. But at least it's fine, he called me up just to tell me. Too bored to get up anyway. Irish had to convince me that I do not have junkfood stash to make me get up. Again, I had to drag my butt all the way to RP with Irish, and we were running like hell in the middle of Pedro Gil; we both are such ditzes when crossing the street...

Just another wildcard Wednesday

Wednesday saw a dark cloud above my head as I groggily dragged myself up from my bed this morning. I hate Wednesdays. (I hate weekdays, go figure!) It was raining so friggin hard at 3 in the morning as we had to go to duty at PCH. Day 4 of my mind-boggling internship as SN.(Yeah!) Baby Girl Alcolicol was my patient for 3 days straight and I can't bear to see her still stuck to tubes and all that. At least they weren't making me inject her with more Phenobarbitol as she's still sedated. Her vital signs were checked every 2 hours and while everyone is busy at the delivery room frantically waiting for newborn babies to be delivered, all I ever do at the Nursery ICU unit was to stare at the ceiling of that creepy, tiny 4-walled room. So much for my attention span. Still, the Alcolicol chick ain't moving. Merde.

Oh, and didn't I mention that they cancelled our classes due to the floods in Pedro Gil. Already a little too late for announcements, isn't it? Our duty got cancelled the last minute, so we had to pack up, change out of our really, really, really gureeeenn scrubsuit and head home. At least I get to sleep 'till later...

Mom called me up yesterday. I missed her so badly. I told her I was busy studying, not daydreaming of bass guitar players who don't give me the time of day. Which guy in his right mind would? I am a freak. They prolly think I would gobble them up just by looking at them. Anyway, I was telling mom about my cases, patients and stuff, and still no reaction from her. She was afterall, a nurse herself. She would want me to become a surgeon, but I ought to be specialized in Pediatrics. Sometimes people can be control freaks without even meaning to.

It's nice to blog again, even if there aren't many audience to read the pathetic stuff I put here from time to time. It would be nice to revamp the site though, I just didn't like it if people had the same color scheme as mine. Creativity. creativity. tsk, tsk.

Today wasn't that bad. I'm actually looking forward the rest of this Wednesday. :)

My Dog, Arf Arf

Oh happy daze. (oh happy daze).. When Jesus washed. (when Jesus washed). When Jesus washed (when Jee-sus washed). Washed my sins away (washed my sins away). I am the background vocalist of my own voice. This is how pathetic I am when I'm dazed, bored, or just in a loony bin. Heheeh, sigh. The Nicole's Day-in-a-life-of-a-nurse Chronicles will begin shortly. I'm uber-duper excited to play Nurse.harhar. Nothing much to say as usual.

Marcussy will always be Marcus, with her pet-tortol searching escapades. There's like this store at Robplace that sells cute fishies and animols. I so love the word "tortol"! We were thinking of unusual names for pets during our Human Anat. lecture, when we weren't paying that much attention to Dr. Solano's quips. Zeehbazsheouz Gluhnds. Ffseudo Hustratehfayhd Effiethehlial Cehls. Harhar. So anyway, if I'm ever gonna get a doggie, (which prolly won't happen, ever) I'm gonna name it, "arf arf". I know, how dumb. Watever.

Was singing Penny& Me for the nth time this week. Everyone is always associating me with the song. They're like, "Oh, it's Nicole's Song Syndrome na!" I think Beanchi's already getting sawa. More ramblings tomorrow. I must get this song thingy out of my system.

Cheerio!