A Thing.

When I was very young I had a toy doctor set, as many children do. I think my only patients were my stuffed animals and my younger brother. I have a vague recollection of putting a fake plastic band-aid cuff on his arm. It was when he was in his roly-poly, pudgy stage that he bounced around in ages zero to two. So I must have been three or four when I mended his fake ouchie with my fake band-aid.

I remember that the toy kit came with a plastic stethoscope that was too small for my toddler head. But I was very serious about playing doctor, so I shoved the yellow plastic ear pieces into my ear canals and endured the pain. My head throbbed as I listened in vain for the sound of my brother’s heartbeat, moving the grey foam listening doodad over his chest and back like my own pediatrician did. “Breath in”, I would say. “And out. Ok good.”

I don’t think I ever diagnosed anything more serious than a mild skin lesion as I didn’t have the tools to fix a heart murmur or pneumonia or whatever it was that I was looking for with that dreadful stethoscope. Most of my toys suffered from horrible neglect, so a kit with so many pieces was soon dismembered and forgotten.

Around fourth grade I was rummaging through one of our wooden cabinets looking for art supplies for some outrageous school project (making a model of the solar system, most likely). As I filtered my way through a rainbow of pipe cleaners and the remains of half finished art projects I rediscovered my old toy doctor’s kit, sitting in the back of the cabinet.

Its little brown vinyl bag was dusty and ripping at the corners. I pulled it out and opened up the plastic handles to peer inside. The only piece that lay remaining was that stethoscope.

I took it out and looked it over. It was slightly dusty and the yellow ear pieces seemed to be smeared with a grayish substance (probably the remains of dried up toddler ear wax). I used my shirt to wipe off some of the grime then moved the ear pieces into place. The blue plastic “Y” pushed my ears closer together and squished my brain in its shell, causing me to squeeze my eyes shut. But I sat there with the yellow buds in my ears, trying to endure that pain. I looked around for something to listen to and, finding nothing in the immediate vicinity, settled on lifting up my shirt and listening to my heart. Breathing in and out.

Why am I WHAT?

I shouldn't be writing here. This is crazy. This is just nuts. But that is why I am writing here. Because I practice extreme procrastination. Enough.

Graduation is so close that I can taste the iron in its thick, crimson blood and I loooooove it. But after that feast I will soon be hungry, and what could possibly quench my thirst for life changing events? Perhaps a temp job in the mountains of West Virginia. Oh. Hell. Yes.

I will be saving cerulean warblers from extinction, tagging hawks with radio transmitters, getting massively wasted and possibly getting a tan. What? It will be a kick ass summer for shizzle.

Ugh paper...now.

Liz

This is heavy, doc!

I'm around, just not blogging. Things are changing, other things are staying the same.

The biggest news is that I have a Macbook that the school is lending me for the semester. I know, right? Pretty sweet. I have to make movies for a class called Writing with Video. For that class I HAVE to blog, and that blog is here:

http://podcast.ics.uiuc.edu/wp/econdon2/

But it's not going to be personal stuff. I mean, it's how I personally feel about watching films and making them, but that's it. Check it out if you feel so inclined.

I love you all.

Frick!

Thank you Elliot Reid, for providing a catch phrase that so perfectly describes the way I feel. 0/45 pages written, with one research paper late already.

Yet, like blond doctor's infallible ability to bounce back by the end of each 20 minute episode, I will prevail. With maybe 10% knocked off my grade.

I am going to Europe this winter. I am getting there on a plane, and I am leaving on a plane. I don't know how I am getting around for the in between planes time, but I am guessing it will be planes, trains, automobiles, and my own two feet. Maybe also a sea kayak (keep your fingers crossed people).

Finals are just around the rubber band, and then a big ol pancake stack of holiday shopping for loved ones (AND hated ones), and then I'm off to GAY Paris. gahahahahahahaaaaa

Ok back to work.

It's poppin

What is up my Kramas?

Just chillin. Writing an abstract. Oh wait no, I'm writing a blog instead.

Things are swimming along, and I am no longer being sucked down into a whirlpool of emotion and emoticons. :-)

I spent last weekend hiking, camping and whitewater rafting in West Virginia on the upper Gauley River. It was no less than supa dupa fly. 60 rapids in 5 hours, 5 class 5 rapids. I got dumped 3 or 4 times. I'm going back ASAP, hopefully in the spring with my family. Seriously, a great place.

Here is a "carnage" video from the river I rafted. Check out the Dildo hits around 2/3 of the way through. http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-4975456070922767135&hl=en

In the spring I graduate, and after that it's up in the air. I'll work for a least a year. Let's see if my degree gets me anywhere.

I need a haircut.

Love,
Lizzie

Emo for the day

Mostly I feel good, but sometimes I get emo. Right now I am emo.

Electronics are stressing me out, as is a more private situation. I’m trying to synthesize my thoughts on global warming in a 5 page report, but getting past half a page is proving to be impossible right now. I feel like crashing and burning, so Amy gave me a cigarette and I went outside to smoke it. I’m at the UIUC Undergrad Library, in the lower level, so when I exited to smoke I really entered a courtyard that is in a giant ditch of sorts. The undeniable symbolism of smoking a cigarette in a massive ditch was simply crushing. I felt like putting out the cigarette in my eye, taking shots of tequila until passing out and puking up my intestines in the neatly placed shrubbery.

But that was just a short lived fantasy. Right now I actually do feel like I might throw up. Stupid cigarette. Stupid me for smoking a cigarette. Stupid climate change for making me feel like a useless output of carbon.

Ahhhh. That almost feels better. Ranting to the internet was just what I needed. Now all I need is my cell phone back and for my computer to stop being a little shit. And a date.

Lizzie

Fall 07 Schedule

Classes:
Physics 101: I Haven't Done This Since High School
Environmental Studies 301: Global Warming is Real Suckas
Geography 466: Forget Everything You Knew About Environmental Politics
American Indian Studies 490: Oh Shit This is Cross Listed as a Literature Course
Environmental Studies 299: Making Stuff Happen

Work:
Catching birds for the state of Illinois

Activities:
Students for Environmental ConcernS (president)
Writing on the Wall (director)
Student Sustainability Committee (member)

Fun:
Drinkin, campin, sleepin, knittin, you know.