Holy Fuck

Well... I forgot about this "blogger" phase of my life (are bloggers even a thing anymore? idk.). However, I was horrified delighted when I found all of this content still existed. Since my last attempt at a post a million years ago things have definitely changed. For example, reading about my horror at the thought of turning 30 seems hilarious to me now, at 31. Reading me describe my education and experience in medical school, as if it was some sort of other-worldly accomplishment, is cringeworthy. Sorry about that.

Just FYI doctors are not gods, despite what television and dr. so-and-so may have led you to believe. In fact most are spectacularly dumb and, quite frankly, the stupidity is terrifying. Do not trust them. Before I delve into whatever it was that I was meaning to talk about in this post, I will give you some tips for visiting a doctor of any sorts:

1. PLAY DUMB - doctors, by the very nature of the culture that surrounds them, HATE to admit that anyone might be remotely intelligent (and yes, I realize by saying this I am committing an equal crime... but I don't really care). This means - NEVER EVER say you read something on the internet or use words that might make you sound like you may have passed the 4th grade. Seriously... I think there is some sort of app where you can check language to make sure a 4th grader can understand it. Get that if you happen to have a particularly voracious vocabulary.

2. DON'T BE DUMB - this is important. You must realize that most doctors are either complete idiots (I'm not exaggerating. You would be shocked by the people I've met along the way) OR really busy and need to be fed information the way they were taught in medical school (i.e. by really weird ppl who are paid to play fake patients and describe their symptoms in a way so methodic an ape could diagnose them). This means, if you actually know what is wrong with you, you should consult the internet or a library and read the list of symptoms required to diagnose whatever malady it is that you have. If you can, use a text like Bate's, there will usually be a description of how your basic idiotic patients will describe their symptoms... go with that. Trust.

Am I still making sense?

3. BE SHINY, PRETTY, & CLEAN - Clean. Clean. Clean! Clean fingernails. Clean hair. Clean clothes. Clean shoes. CLEAN. Get it? Generally most doctors secretly hate treating poor, dirty, fat people (It's the truth - of course they would never EVER admit this bc they're are God, remember? God loves everyone. But seriously, one day I will tell you the story about putting a catheter in a woman who was so obese she had to be wheeled out of the double doors on the back porch of her trailer). Anyways, if you are very clean, and look like a well-kept member of society, doctors will see you favorably. Just remember to play dumb. Basically you want to be like a freshly manicured lawn. Literally: beautiful and immaculate with the IQ of a blade of grass. Freshly cut grass, of course.

Basically, thats it I think? I forgot why I'm telling you all of this. OH! Because of the innumerable times I saw sweet old ladies and other generally intelligent ppl come in with some sort of knowledge of their symptoms or disease (which I found respectable) and then leave them in the exam room and hear my attending or resident immediately dismiss whatever they said and send them away. It's seriously scary and seriously true.

So anyways...

You may be wondering why I sound so bitter compared to my previous persona? I'll get into that later. Because, obviously I love talking about myself and all of my problems and giving baseless advice. In fact, I was inspired to write today because I was embarrassed by the amount of texts I was sending to random people. It was A LOT. GOD, I am so awful.

And I guess, since all of my previous posts were centered around pictures of my dumb head, some of you may be wondering what I look like now. Two-and-half years later. OK, fine. No one is wondering but whatever. Here I am. In the cigarette,YSL L'homme, febreeze scented, hungover 31-year-old flesh.

Thank god there is a very small likelihood anyone will ever see this - but somehow it is therapeutic for me and keeps me from annoying my friends and oversharing in group texts (much better to overshare on the internet for the whole world to see - right?). 

In other news, I got a bunch of cute glasses recently for like, retardedly cheap, on this website called Zenni. 

Looking back, I realize how idiotic I was to post where I got all of my thrift store clothes from. As if it really mattered since you couldn't go buy them somewhere yourself. Ugh, I sometimes I wonder if I am getting dumber or smarter with age? 

Ok, I'm tired. If you're wondering if I still live in brooklyn the answer is no. But manhattan, yes. If you're wondering if I work at the gap the answer is no - I might explain how that all panned out in a later post. However, I'm sure the only thing you are wondering if you've made it this far in my demented self-obsessed rant is where the fuck your ibuprofen/xanax is. 

BYE.