Cavemen

My parents returned home on Thursday night. Everything on the other side of Highland Valley Road is burned, completely. Their house was untouched. My heart goes out to everyone affected by those flames--they're still going.

I have a constant internal dialog these days. A stream of consciousness, it runs through the back of my mind, like fuzzy television sound, not quite white beneath more intentional thought and activity. It sounds something like this: "dehydrogenase is the enzyme that uses NAD+ to remove a hydrogen from a substrate--I think. The respiratory cavities go "trachea, bronchi, bronchiole, terminal bronchiole, alveolar duct. I think. The radius is connected to the scaphoid, lunate and triquetrum, and to the ulna. I think. Right atria, right ventricle, pulmonary vein, lungs, pulmonary artery, left atria, left ventricle, aorta. Mucosa, sub mucosa, muscalaris. Aorta, arteries, arterioles, capillaries, venules, veins--" and so on and so forth, rendering me all but useless, interpersonally.

Really, they ought not let us first years socialize.

My other internal dialog is about food. Mashed butternut squash with garlic, onions, chicken stock, butter, leeks and coarse ground pepper. Crock pot pot roast. Five and a half quarts of chicken soup, homemade and brimming with too many vegetables. Chantrelle mushrooms sauteed with butter and olive oil, onions, garlic and bacon, deglazed with good red wine and tossed with shrimp. Oh, yum. Tapioca bread and raw goat's milk cheddar grilled cheese sandwiches. GF chocolate chip cookies a la Bob's Red Mill, so yummy that my biochem class had no idea they were allergen free. (Grains. I know. Sugar, I know. It's a quality of life issue.) Deviled egg eyeballs.

I feel like I've found a flow with school. I'm not drowning. I'm not even treading water: I'm doing okay. I've figured out what material I learn better on my own, and for which I ought to attend lecture (I must admit, it's still a little thrilling, even in week 8, to be a class ditcher). I've passed all my tests (biochem Wednesday might be another story?) so far, and have still made time to bowl terribly on my Underdog league, sleep 8ish hours most nights, get my groove on at Halloween parties (so far, three costumes and counting. the 31st should make four?), finish Nina Planck's book, and, most of the time, to feed myself.

Much to the disappointment of my vocabulary and syntax, writing is not one of those things I've made much time for. Good thing no one reads me :) Maybe next term.