Mon Feb 03 2003 04:49PM -0600


(Tangent: Rule number one of fantasy novels: never read the prologues. They are all completely pointless. Even the one for The Lord of the Rings. I know too many people who failed to even start LotR because they couldn't get through the Prologue. But this parenthetical aside as just as pointless.)

OK. Now I've sort of made it a point not to post about the details of my personal life. Sure, sure, I've freely divulged the intricate, disgusting, and straight up demented aspects of my thoughts and emotions, but always in a frustratingly vague way. Maybe not the best way to run a blog, as any of my putative readers probably have no idea what is going on and couldn't really give a rat's ass. But, it is, unfortunately, my way.

So. Because of my insecurities, and my perverse desire to make all this as confusing as possible, I will divulge this with a cheesy little framing literary conceit and with as little detail as possible.

This is a story told to me by someone in medical school right now, and it goes a little something like this:

Now I did this clinical rotation with this girl earlier in the year, and she had this story about how she was with this guy, and they were on the verge of engagement or some such, and then they broke up. So immediately in my mind is painted this picture of someone who is not exactly emotionally stable. And yes, she is attractive, the flirty type to be sure, I mean, as inexperienced as I am with women, I know the type. But this is nowhere near the point.

To cut to the chase: someone else on this rotation, for god knows whatever reason, was very vociferous about his belief that this girl was sleeping with one of the residents at the hospital, despite admitting that he had absolutely no proof. He was simply basing all this on her flirtatiousness and her drive to excel at this particular clinical rotation, since this was a field she was really interested in. Now, I myself am not one to lightly cast aspersions on other people, but I will say this: this someone else has a known history of selling people out behind their backs, of spreading information that is not necessarily true, so, I mean, what he believed was immediately suspect in my mind. For all I know, it could've been a straight-up mean spirited rumor with no basis in truth whatsoever.

But at the same time, I couldn't vouch for her. There were some mysterious goings-on during on-call nights. I mean, hey, my policy is hear no evil, see no evil, and I saw nothing to prove or disprove any of these stories, so as far as I'm concerned I can't say yea or nay.

Which is, at times, uncomfortable, because of these particular scenarios that I have absolutely no need to think about, and yet they continue to occupy my thoughts, arising in the most random of times:

  1. The stories are true: well, this speaks for itself. That would be just fucking weird. (No pun intended with the fucking. Really.)
  2. The stories are false: this totally sucks for the girl, because apparently my entire class, including her ex-boyfriend, believe that the stories are true, and a good six months after the fact, the incident still comes up in random conversations. And, paranoid as I am, for all I know, particularly if they have never managed to localize the source of these stories, all fingers probably point to me, since I worked with this girl and the suspected resident(s) (!) for quite a while.

And still even if the stories are true, it think it sucks for anyone to continue spreading these stories. Whether the original behavior was unethical or not, this is someone's private life we're discussing here. Not necessarily the most appropriate topic of conversation. And (of course, selfish bastard that I am, I'm really only thinking about myself here) I would hate to think that if they have erroneously localized the source of these stories to me, that I would be characterized as some backstabbing bastard who spreads rumors unfounded on evidence.

My only consolation is that not many people think highly of this girl. I mean, I thought she was all right, actually, and I had some pleasant conversations with her. I don't think she's nearly as bad as everyone says she is. I wonder why everyone has so readily turned on her. I mean, sure, for all I know, she simply allowed me to believe what she wanted me to believe about her, and that I got played. On the other hand, it makes me wonder what people say about me behind my back, and again, it makes me hate the people at my school. (I mean, yeah, there are a lot of unrelated reasons as to why I hate people at my school, but I won't go into it here.)

But seriously. Don't go to my medical school. It's filled with bitter, rotten, lazy people who think they deserve more than they've gotten, and that is the worse type of asshole, the one's who think about what they deserve. Well, maybe if they actually made an honest effort to work for it, and spent a little less time kissing ass and putting on airs... but this is another tirade that belongs somewhere else. I will never understand it. We are, for all intents and purposes, a reject farm, and still, there are people here who believe that they are bad-ass. OK. I'm going off on a tangent. Let me stop now.

So that is that. It's just something I wanted to get into written form. Who knows.

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