Mediocre Me

In August 2009, I was sitting in an auditorium when 95 strangers, embarking on a new journey.  My dreams had finally come true- I was in vet school. Yay me! One of the first things we heard during our orientation was the standard "look to your left, look to your right, one of these people may not be here when you graduate."  We were also reminded that even though many of us were at the top of our classes before, many of us would be at the bottom of the class in vet school.  I honestly had never heard that before, and it scared me.  Soon we met students from other classes and at some point heard what seems to be a popular vet school slogan, "C equals DVM."  In other words, grades don't really matter. Get Cs, and you will still get your DVM just like the person with straight As.  (Let's not mention the flaw in that considering that if one did get straight Cs, which equals a 2.0 grade point average, they would be below standards for most schools, but I digress.) No one wants to fail, because in vet school failing one class isn't like failing one class as an undergraduate that you get to retake.  In vet school failing one class means you aren't in vet school anymore. Now filled with the fear of being that person who would fail, I began to live by the C=DVM slogan.  Worst mistake I ever made. 

Now don't get me wrong, I was trying. I was studying. My classmate Eboni and I were often at school studying well after midnight. But for some reason, for the first time in my life, I developed test anxiety. Maybe being told that I might be one of the ones to fail was part of it.  But I went into each test more nervous than I'd been about anything in my life, thinking "if I fail this test... there are only two other exams in this class... did I study enough, etc" and I'd go in, take my seat, and my mind went blank. I'd often spend the first 20 minutes of an exam so freaked out, then have to rush to try to finish in the 40 minutes that remained.  I'd second guess myself and often ended up changing correct answers to incorrect ones.  I started having an upset stomach the day of each exam. Quite frankly after all that I was going through each exam day, "passing" was good  enough for me.  Before I knew it, Cs became a standard for me, and  I was just happy they weren't Ds or Fs, and was reminded constantly by classmates and others that C=DVM.  But it doesn't. When your test anxiety leads you to the point where you make a D and end up meeting with the academic committee, C no longer equals DVM. At that point the Cs tell them that you aren't trying hard enough, that if they gave you another chance you would still just barely scrape through.  

Once the committee dismissed me, I was angry.  I was angry at them for not understanding that I was retaining more information than my test scores showed.  The test anxiety brought my scores down but the information was there in my brain.  I was angry at myself for not seeking help with the anxiety sooner.  I was angry that I let myself get caught in a web of mediocrity knowing that I have always been the type to strive for excellence in all that I do.  I couldn't help but think 'if I'd had more As and Bs they would have been willing to give me another chance."  But at the same time I knew that because the test anxiety was there, the scores wouldn't have been where they needed to be to show the committee that I was learning and I deserved to be there. 

So I made a decision.  No more mediocre me.  I would get help with the anxiety  and remove "C equals DVM" from my mind and my vocabulary.  Cs weren't good enough for me in high school or  college, and they damn sure won't be good enough now.  Now that I've been admitted to another vet school, I finished my first semester with 1 A and 3 Bs, and I plan to do even better this semester. Being mediocre is like being at the edge of a cliff, where one mistake can cause you to plummet into the deep abyss of failure.  For some people being "good enough" is good enough, but for me it never was, and it never shall be again.  

Beauty or Brains? Why not Beauty AND Brains?

In the speech given on election night, President Obama said "Sasha and Malia, before our very eyes, you're growing up to become two strong, smart, beautiful young women, just like your mom, and I'm so proud of you."  As a daddy's girl, I can tell you that probably made their little hearts smile.

Alice Robb of The Oxonian Glabalist (which I've never heard of, by the way) felt that it was inappropriate for him to use the word "beautiful."  Read her reasoning behind this here.

Seriously, people, let's be real.  While I understand that placing too much importance on physical appearance isn't a good thing, looks do matter.  Actually, let's back up. He called them strong, smart, and beautiful.  He mentioned strength and intelligence before their beauty.  Maybe that was his way of emphasizing that the latter was not as important.  But why should little girls feel that they have to be smart OR pretty?  Why can't she have dreams of being a lawyer, physician, veterinarian, astronaut, or even the president, while at the same time thinking that she is beautiful? While I believe everyone needs to have more than just good looks, I don't think that telling someone that they have to choose between brains and beauty is just plain old stupid.

Robb says that the president's words "stung." First of all, he wasn't talking to her so fuck her feelings.  Second of all, with so many absentee fathers in the world, how dare anyone criticize this man for praising his daughters? They ARE beautiful.  And I assume with FLOTUS as a role model they are definitely strong and with two highly educated parents I know they are smart.  I just don't see what was wrong with this and why this woman feels like he should have left their looks out of it.  Those girls are gorgeous and there is nothing wrong with their father saying so! Some people need to get a life.

More Proof that This Country Doesn't Value its Woman...

The most horrifying thing I saw this Halloween wasn't a movie or costume, but a graphic about men who rape women suing for parental rights. I thought to myself "surely this is not for real."  But apparently it's true.  If a man rapes you and you become pregnant, he can sue for parental rights and visitation or even shared custody. *Insert slow blink*

That is scary as fuck to me.  I can't imagine what being raped does to you emotionally.  Then to have to deal with becoming pregnant by your rapist, and having to see him when you drop your child off for visitation, seeing him at your child's school plays, etc.  I'm sure that would be agonizing and the fact that this is even a possibility in this country is further evidence that women are undervalued here in the "great" USA.

I decided to go to Google to see what else I could find on the subject.  I found this article on CNN.  Listening to this woman talk about the emotions involved after her rape and conception of her daughter was hard for me.  My heart definitely goes out to any woman in this situation and I pray that our justice system will change these laws.

Don't Like Gay Marriage? Don't Get Gay Married!

So I get out of an exam today and log on to twitter to kill time.  I see all kinds of comments that actually had me scared to ask what was going on this time.  Then I found out what the uproar was about...a wedding between a couple of gay guys who are members of a certain fraternity.

My first thoughts? Congrats! Watched the video and the wedding looked magnificent.  Meanwhile half of the people talking about it on twitter are single as shit, at home alone on Friday nights eating Blue Bell straight from the carton.  And let's not forget about the women who are chiming in while their man is screwing his "best friend" when he claims to be out playing basketball.  At least these men had the courage to be who they are and love who they love.  What I can't understand is why so many men who claim to be "straight" are always worried about what gay people are doing.  If you don't like the same sex, good for you.  Keep it moving.  Let these folks live! Shit.

Comments on another blog went to the place people always go when talking about gay marriage-- the Bible.  Meanwhile I'm pretty sure none of them are God and none of them have a hell to put anyone in so their opinions might as well just shut up because I'm sure if I opened their closets all types of skeletons would fall out.  I don't believe God hates gay people, I don't believe it is a "sin," or that a person will be condemned to hell for loving someone of the same sex-- but that's all for another post.

So let me just end by saying CONGRATULATIONS to Robert & Nathanel and I hope that they have a wonderful life together.

Neighbor Wars: Don't Start None Won't Be None

This ain't Mr. Rogers' neighborhood.

I recently moved into a duplex.  Pets are allowed, I paid my pet fee.  I got a not from my neighbor a couple of weeks ago stating that my dogs howl when I leave and that he works at night and sometimes works from home and is unable to sleep or get any work done.

As a former 3rd shift worker I feel his pain-- to an extent.  My dogs, Carlton and Beaux, both have separation anxiety.  When I leave Carlton howls and Beaux does his best to be like his big brother (Poor thing his "howl" sounds more like the pitiful cries of an alley cat).  Let it be known that while they do howl when I leave they generally settle down after 10-15 minutes and sleep, but they will bark if someone knocks on the door, as they are good watch dogs and quite frankly that's their damn job.  I did acknowledge his note and made efforts to try to muffle the sound.  I put Carlton in another bedroom with the door closed.  It was very inconvenient for me to have to drag his crate into my room each morning, and out of my room each day when I returned home.  Carlton can't be trusted out of his crate and I'd come home to all of my things torn up so this had to be done.  I tried putting them in my kitchen, which is upstairs and on the far wall-- so he was as far as possible from my neighbor's bedroom.

So now to the second note from my neighbor.  He said that the noticed a difference but then proceeded to tell me there "are other things that can be done to keep a dog from howling."  Well enlighten me motherfucker! I've worked with animals for over 7 years now and have been dealing with Carlton's separation anxiety since I got him as a 3 month old puppy and he is 5 now.  But I am sure that he's way more qualified than I am to deal with this.  I refuse to drug my dogs for his benefit so if that is what his suggestion is, he can kiss my ass as well as theirs.

I decided not to even reply to the second note, because my mean side would have responded, not my nice side.  Well as it turns out my neighbor has issues of his own.  Not sure if it was him or his roommate but they are noisy as hell! Sounds like they are trying to knock the building down.  I said I was also going to let that slide but then I heard a barking dog.  Wait one damn minute.  You are complaining about my dog's noise and you have a noisy dog of your own?  After I didn't hear the dog anymore I felt like maybe I was just hearing things, but then I almost stepped in a pile of dog shit the size of Omaha on my half of the yard.  I told myself not to even get worked up about it because a stray dog could have done it or a dog who was being walked by an irresponsible owner... until this morning, when one of the guys's girlfriend drives up and lets a dog out of her car, off leash who was doing whatever the hell it wanted.

So I finally decided I would reply to his last note.  Asked him to enlighten me on his "ways to keep a dog from howling." I also added that he and his roommate (and the girlfriend) make their own fair share of noise. I also let him know that I'd appreciate it if they didn't let that dog poop on my half of the yard (or at least pick it up) and that I have heard the dog barking.  I am not complaining at all about the dog at all.  As a dog owner I understand that just like children, no dog will be quiet 100% of the time.  I just ask that they keep the poop out of my half of the yard and remember that while they are complaining about my noise they are making noise of their own.  Hopefully this is enough for him to leave me the hell alone, but if not, we can make this into an all out war and I guarantee he is not ready.

No Sparkle for Me...

... at least not this weekend.

I love being Black. It has it's ups and downs but I'm glad to be a Black woman. There are some times, however, when my people act up and I want to check that box that says Pacific islander or Alaskan native. Viewing a movie with a predominantly black cast in theaters is one of those times.

Let's take a trip down memory lane.  Picture it, Mobile, 2006. My two best friends at the time and I went to see the Dreamgirls on opening night with our mothers.  The women behind us can only be described as ratchet. They talked, cackled likenhens and complained the entire length of the film. I guess no one had told them that Dreamgirls was a musical (I wonder how one can pay to see a movie without knowing a little bit about it, not to mention it is a remake).  About halfway through the movie they got really fed up withbthe singing.  When a song started there was a large, dramatic sigh, followed by "oh Lord they singing AGAIN?" or "not ANOTHER song."

I hate that. I don't pay almost $12 for a movie plus up to $6 for the snacks I get beforehand at Walgreens (don't judge me) to have to listen to women cackle, complain, and just be loud and inconsiderate during a movie. You guys have fun at the movie tomorrow. I will be waiting a couple of weeks and I will go to the first showing on a Sunday while all the black churches are waiting for their pastor to finish that sermon.

Honey, I'm home!

For just over a week I have been in my new place.

Moving day was a complete clusterfuck. It started with my parents and I spending almost an hour looking for my cat Purrrcy. There were issues with the movers, rain, and the a/c was broken when we got here- but we made it.

One of my major concerns about the move was whether or not the boys would have trouble adjusting. The duplex is split level and I was unsure of how they would handle the stairs.  Purrrcy settled right in. He runs up and down the stairs like a maniac (and will hopefully lose weight).  Carlton went up the stairs like a champ. Coming down was another story. He made it down two steps before deciding it was safer to just stay upstairs. Beaux was scared going up but ran down.  In the week we've been here they have both conquered their fears and settled in nicely.

I'm still unpacking and trying to get things organized but everything is coming along nicely and i am ready for my new beginning!