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I've been Hunting the Rhino all this week, and will likely be hunting it until school ends in a month."Hunting the Rhino" is a term we (me and my friend Kelley) created which means staying focused on a single task and not thinking about anything else until that task is complete. It is the opposite of multi-tasking.
It's basic human biology: back in the day, women had lots of jobs - cook the food, keep the cave clean, raise the cave babies; men had only one job - hunt the rhino (or lion, or bear, etc.; we use rhino because it sounds best).
These days I am incapable of multi-tasking. I can't work on my Core Concepts paper or start studying for Patho at the same time as study for today's Health Promo exam. I have to focus on one thing and one thing only - study for the Health Promo exam. I'm Hunting the Rhino*.
Just trying to get through work this week before you make plans for the weekend? You're Hunting the Rhino. One of those people who eats each thing on the plate before starting onto the next? You're a Rhino Hunter.
Hunting the Rhino also sounds like it could be something dirty. Which is another reason I like it. Just like the Cobra Secret Handshake and the Weanamin, I am determined to get this phrase into the day-to-day existence of my cohort. And hopefully beyond. Start passing it along.* Please note, I am not endorsing the hunting or killing of animals. I am totally against it. It is just an expression.
This morning my heart feels swollen and sore. It has been another long and sleepless night.I started Giant Butters as a way to document my life in nursing school, which is a different approach from my other blog, which was generally less personal and more funny. I don't want it to be a platform to complain - that's boring and nobody (all 5 people that read this) wants to read about that - but at the same time I'm trying to be true to myself so that I'm presenting a real picture of what's going on in my life.Yesterday my dog died. And I'm feeling incredibly sad about it. A lot of people don't know that I had a dog, and the truth is I haven't been with her for about 4 years. I kind-of "lost her in the divorce" when I broke up with my ex and moved back to Chicago. Although I loved her and we had a great connection, it was the best decision, despite the fact that it caused me a lot of pain. I still remember the last time I saw her, when I said goodbye to her and cried when the car drove away, her in the backseat looking at me.I keep a photo of her near my bed and think about her everyday. Back then I never thought I'd never see her again, because I thought at some point when my life was more stable that I'd get her back. Even when she got sick a few months ago, I thought that maybe with a surgery and some medications we could keep the cancer at bay at least long enough for me to somehow get back into her life, but that didn't happen.
And I hate that that never happened and I have a lot of guilt over it. I hate the fact that I wasn't in her life these last few years, and that I wasn't there in the end. But she's had a good life since we said goodbye, living with a great caring dad and another dog to keep her company up until the moment she died.For the last 15 hours it has been hard to think of anything else. I tried studying last night, but couldn't focus. I took a shower (and sobbed) and didn't want to be in my apartment so went for a walk. I felt somewhat hungry so I went to Target (of all places), thinking I could get something to buy for dinner. I thought the bright lights and people would at least provide a distraction for awhile (I broke down a but in there, too). I walked through the aisles in a daze, staring at the food and Christmas decorations before deciding I needed to go somewhere else and clear my head.
It was a beautiful and unusually warm night so I walked all the way down to DuPont Circle. I sat down on a bench and started crying again. I wanted to call people but also knew I couldn't have a good conversation with anyone in the state I was in, so I put the phone away.I came home around 10, feeling exhausted. I did manage to study a bit, but in the end watched a movie just to stay distracted. I fell asleep around midnight, but woke back up around 2:30 then again around 4:30, so I just got up around 5 and came to school, which is where I am now, sitting in the cafeteria drinking coffee.It's hard to write about how much I loved and miss my dog without sounding trite, so I won't try. I know she was happy, and didn't suffer she when passed and I guess there's comfort in that.
Life is out of whack right now. No joke. School's fer real now. I feel like I'm about a week behind in my coursework and studies. It might have something to do with the 8 hours I've spent in the last three days transcribing a Patho lecture (it was my turn). Not to put too fine a point on it, but those 8 hours could have been used for so many other more important things.I'm not sleeping well, and my sleep pattern is all wonkee. Last week I had a dream everyone in my cohort was pissed at me. Last night I had that prototypical dream where I was nearly naked in my Research class. Why? Because I was hot and needed to cool off, as I told my professor. I'm falling asleep at 7 pm (Monday night I fell asleep while eating dinner for fuck sake), only to wake up around 9pm and do schoolwork until about midnight, just to wake back up at 4 am to start it all over again.This morning I took the Metro to school because it was raining and I - wait for it - can't find my rain pants. They're nowhere to be found. How, I ask you, can I lose pants?? Anyway, I'm standing on the platform at Gallery Place waiting for the Red Line and I started feeling all anxious and sad, and started thinking about all the things I'm not getting done. And not just school work - stuff beyond that -- things like: I have friends who have recently had babies and I'm not even in contact with them and all these friends and people I have in my life and it is all just slipping by. I'm missing the birthdays and anniversaries of my friends. I haven't talked to my brother in weeks.So what starts happening? Yep, I start crying just a little bit. It sucks. But hey, it isn't like this is the first time I've cried in public. Or heck, even the first time at the Metro.As I type this I am cracking open a can of something I never ever thought I'd drink again (at least not without vodka) to stay awake - a fucking Red Bull. Christ. Just get me to Thanksgiving, where I have almost 6 days off to catch up on schoolwork. And sleep. And wine drinking.
Last week while surfing local DC blogs I came across Nutgraf, and this entry. And it pretty much made my day, and I wanted to share it.The author recalls a story of a time she was lounging by a pool, and witnessed a conversation where a child went up to the mother and whined, "Mooom, Peter splashed meee!"To which the mom replied, "You're already in the pool, princess."And like Nutgraf, I also think it is a great response to life. We're all already in the pool, so let's just get on with it...
So I decided (weeks and weeks ago, like back in August) to be Max (of "Where the Wild Things Are fame) for Halloween this year.
And based on a random sampling of revelers in the Foggy Bottom/Georgetown/Glover Park area, just like roughly 10% of the male population on Halloween night.So sue me.
Despite the fact that the costume was popular and dinged by Gawker last week as being too cliche (too late, I already bought the outfit) and that I thought my outfit was pretty good/authentic (I mean: I had the white one-sy pajamas, a tail, crown, hoodie with ears on it; some people wore pants, blue or gray pajamas, Burger King crowns. C'mon, people...), I still had a shitload of people ask me, "So, like, who are you supposed to be?"
And when I answered, there was a staggeringly high percentage of people who still didn't know what the hell I was referring to. Said one of the more militant Maxes I ran into that night, "What, do you people not know how to read? Get out of my faces, you fucking illiterates!" (Note: while I love Max and WTWTA, I'm not quite as passionate.)
I was asked if I was a Cat. Or a Bunny. Or the Little Prince. Or one of my favorites, "Burger King Boy" (does such a thing exist? What would that be, exactly?)
As I was walking late at night from my first party in Foggy Bottom, to DuPont Circle, I got perhaps the best proposition I've received in a long time: "Whoo-wee boy, you can be my king anytime!"
Run Bitches, Run!
There was a small group of us and we got to the Race around 7:30, which was enough time to get us 2nd row view in with a boisterous crowd, which helped make the time go by.
Participants were already parading up and down the street, including a group of TWAT crew members. The guy next to us kept yelling to the guy dressed as the captain, "Hey TWAT Pilot! Hey TWAT Pilot!" I'm still trying to figure out a way to incorporate Twat Pilot into my everyday vocabulary.
Later my friend Brady, dressed in some kind of "Cash for Clunkers" group costume (with a bunch of other guys from my swim team), came over to talk to me.
Brady: "You should be out here with us," he said.
Me: Umm, no thanks.
Brady: "Seriously. (To the group of people around me): Folks, don't you think he should be doing this? He'd be fabulous!"
Crowd around me: [... crickets ...]
Thanks, crowd. Seriously, I just can't win.
It was time for Brady to go, so he planted a big kiss on my lips. I turned to Dana:
Me: "Do I have lipstick on my face?"Dana: "Yes. It kinda looks like you've got The Herp."
Radness. So I left it on for the rest of the event. The race itself was over in about a minute. Is it worth it to stand out in the rain for 90 minutes just to see a one-minute race? Yep. I'll do it again next year.
At the same time, one of the queens running past began to lose parts of her costume, and a flesh-colored rubber dildo landed at our feet. Christ, if I had a dollar for every time a dildo was tossed in my direction...
Seeing a great photo opp, I picked it up and offered it to Dana, Caroline and Katie, thinking how funny it would be to get a shot of the three of them with the dildo. Of course, they were having none of that. But Dana and Caroline - those quick-witted minxes - snapped a few photos of me holding it. As did a few other people around me that I don't know. Sweet. Knowing there are photos of me out there holding a floppy, pinkish-tan dildo in public will keep me awake at night.
After the Race was over, we all went our separate ways. I knew the Red Line would be packed, so I decided to hoof it back to the Heights. As I walked back in the rain, I thought about how much fun the evening had been. I've been so stressed these last few weeks, and tonight I just felt so happy to be in DC. Everyone seemed to be out, being friendly and agreeable and I thought this is when I like this city best. I also thought about the people I've been making friends with, and how much I enjoy spending time with them, and I'm feeling like everything is going to be OK.
Sure, these feelings will likely be re-replaced tomorrow with stress, doom and gloom, but tonight all is right with the world.
So I've been jonesing to see Where the Wild Things Are since it opened last week. The book was my childhood favorite, and many months ago (like, back in August) I decided to be Max for Halloween. I'm a big fan. A lot of my friends know this and, in fact, several are surprised that I didn't see it opening night.
Anyway, I wanted to see it last weekend, but didn't (stupid Health Assessment mid-term), then planned to see it Wednesday night after my presentation in Promo, but remembered I had a meeting (stupid Academic Council).So fast-forward to today: I'm feeling hungover and not social, but at the same time I'm feeling guilty about not seeing L in a week, so I think I should probably provide a little care and feeding to this non-relationship. (I spent the afternoon studying with Emily, who asked: "So, what are we calling you two these days?" Nothing. We are calling it nothing.) Going to see WTWTA would be a perfect solution - provide me with a little pick-me-up, opportunity to spend some time with L in a very safe, non-tempting environment. A win-win (for me and myself, anyway). Phone conversation went like this:Me (excited): "Want to go see Where the Wild Things Are??"L: "Hmm, Not really. I heard bad things about it."
Me: "????"
L: "What else is playing?"
Me: "Wait. What? Like what? How ridiculous."L: "Some parents were complaining that it is too boring, or something like that."
Me: "..."
Too boring? If ever there was a dealbreaker, this is it. What am I doing here with this? Care and feeding of this fake relationship has got to stop.
So we're going to Paranormal Activity instead. Sure, I want to see that too, but this is a poor substitute/consolation prize , but whatever.
