Model of Shame

My poor, incredibly neglected blog...how I wish I was more motivated to post stuff. Anyway, thought I should probably let everyone know that I'm still alive...somewhat...so here we go.

First off, I would like to report that not much has happened in our lives lately, which can be good or bad depending on how you look at it. One exciting feat is my amazingly talented pilot hubby has successfully passed all his tests for his instrument rating (such tests include flying w/blinders on so he can't see anything other than his instruments...scary) and can now begin working on his commercial rating. There's a light at the end of the tunnel...it's very, very small but it's there. As for me, I'm still working all the days of my life and getting yelled at on each and every one of them. Fortunately, my soul has become sufficiently numb so it doesn't bother me much.

Anyway, that's about it for updates. Boring, huh? Well, I don't want my blog to be boring. A friend of mine recently showed me a book of ideas to make one's blog super awesome, and one of them was not being afraid to share humiliating stories from your past...so in an attempt to make my blog super awesome, here is my story.

So, my senior year of high school I took a bunch of science classes w/a medical emphasis. My original endeavor in my life was to become a Paramedic or an ER nurse (this was before I realized I don't like being partially responsible for whether someone lives or dies), so I was preparing myself for a future of blood and guts and the like. It was going to be glorious. Anyway, one of these classes was medical anatomy. For the most part I enjoyed it (who didn't want to take a field trip to poke around in a bunch of cadavers?), but every once in a while we were given projects which I considered to be extremely lame.

Something you also should know is that I am the queen of procrastination. I think I averaged 3-4 hrs of sleep a night throughout my high school career...and I pulled a lot of all-nighters.

Anyway, back to medical anatomy. When we were learning about muscles, my teacher assigned a homework project which definitely fell into my lame category: we were to make a model of a muscle. We could pick whatever muscle we wanted and use pretty much any material we wanted, but the main thing was that the model had to show the function of the muscle. In other words, it had to actually move.

I'm fairly certain we were given at least 2-3 weeks to complete the assignment. It was due on a Monday...and as I recall, I started working on it the Saturday before. Uh, yeah. I scavenged around the house not really knowing what I was looking for. I ended up down in the basement by my Dad's work bench, and I picked up a small board I thought looked like a suitable base. Mind you I still had no idea which muscle I was going to do. I continued searching...not finding anything. The minutes ticked on, and soon I had to leave for work...I closed that night (I worked at Arby's) and I had church the next morning, so by the time I got back to working on it, it was Sunday afternoon. Finally in desperation, I found some red fabric. I cut out the shape of a bicep...stuffed it w/some fluffy stuff I found in my mom's material scraps, and sewed that sucker together. I then mounted it on the board with thumbtacks (remember that the assignment was to build a muscle that actually moved? Yeah, I threw that out the window...). For your viewing pleasure, here is a rough drawing of what it looked like...the black square is the board, and the red blob in the middle is the bicep. And of course, the black dots are the thumbtacks.

It was utterly and completely pathetic, but I put my name on it regardless and hoped for the best.

I went to school the next morning ready for it to be all over with. I walked into class praying no one would notice my poor excuse for a muscle...and then I saw the models my classmates had created...all of which looked better than mine. Oh yeah, and they all moved too. I sat next to one of the smartest people in school, and he told me how his grandma is an engineer so she helped him with his. He made a model of the eye. The freaking human eye (and yeah, it moved)! He asked to see mine, and I responded by glaring at him and shaking my head. Fortunately, when it came time to hand them in and I actually had to take it out of my backpack, he was kind enough to not say anything. I thought that would be the end of it...

UNFORTUNATELY...my teacher decided we should each take a turn to present our models to the entire class. So while everyone else got up there with elbows and knees and human eyes, all of which looked amazing and demonstrated how the muscle works, I had to get up with my piece of fluff on a board and say, "This is a bicep. It moves. Except mine doesn't move." I literally wanted to die.

Anyway, this is why you shouldn't procrastinate, kids. You will end up coming to school with a stupid-looking muscle model and people will laugh at you.

The end.