So actually med school isn't that bad. And I guess the people aren't that bad either. I was exaggerating for effect. I have to entertain in my writings more than tell the truth.

I will spare you of my coke story. That was my attempt to see if people will listen to me tell whatever story no matter how pointless it is and how long I make it. The point: I talk to much and don't have much to say...but people listen. As Mopo used to say,  "foolish."

A more important event happened this week. My roommate disappeared for a whole day. Just snuck out of the house without telling where he was going. I thought he was dead. Not that I cared- I, in fact, made plans for Jen to move in as soon as midnight rolled around. I figured I could use her to make a sitcom. It would have been no surprise to me if Alan was to be found the next morning in the East river, but he sooner or later came home with no explanation as to where he had been. The bastard tried to trick us the whole time into thinking that he was still in his room- we quickly learned that he wasn't- and we get no response when he comes strolling in at 2am. We had accused everyone of kidnapping him, even Jen of taking him for a sex slave. She denied the kidnapping but I still feel it would be in her interest to kidnap him for such means. Would Phil or I have paid ransom? No. There I said it. I refuse to deal with terrorists....or I just refuse to pay for my roommate's life, either way. For some reason Phil and I both feel that in the end we are all going end up hating each other. No turning back now.  In response, Phil and I left him today without telling him. You think he cares? Alan doesn't care. When we leave he goes to Jen's (who knows what for? Actually brownies. They were good. Thanks Jen.)  But what do we do when he leaves, sit around wondering what the hell is wrong with him leaving without saying shit.  I hate that douchebag. It is still impressive how he takes almost any dare thrown at him. That just goes to show he has no dignity...but it's impressive.

While Alan was out and Phil was watching the women on Deal or No Deal, I went to Yan's for dinner with her, Fody, and Marianne. Surprisingly Fody can make rational conversation rather than using one-line-not-funny jokes all the time. He still did use them, all directed towards Yan. AS long as I wasn't being hit on I couldn't care less. She has a real problem with the Jewish guys. Asian women are the target of many Jewish men. Kind of a funny twist in history. I wonder what the Jewish mothers across America would think? I also realized I hardly talk to anyone in my class and I am forgetting the names of people I have actually talked to.  Maybe people don't like talking to me because I read my books during break, but I like the writings of AJ Jacobs. Let's face it, I just don't want to socialize.

I'm sorry I had to delete all last entries. I couldn't let anyone know about my personal life before med school. There were just too many questions about the drugs, and prostitutes, and that time I overdosed and went to hell with Marcos. I just had to take my mind away from those things so I had no other choice but to forget about my past. But now I'm living in a world in which people don't actually have personalities and they define themselves by whatever the specialty they want to go into. And worst yet I've been labelled as a surgeon. Of all the things. I would rather be back on the heroin and lithium, going out to eat seven times a day with Marcos, and imitating Fiana. There's not enough adventure here. I go out onto the subways in the bronx and sure people are rude, I mean this is New York, but I don't get the same sense that my personal welfare is in any danger and it bores me. Whatever happened to those times when I almost died several times a day just riding around in the car with Marcos? Time flies by so fast.

I've bene too many places now and it really doesn't matter to me anymore where I end up, whether it be new york, san diego or china. My risk taking days have been limited. Hell I can't even write anymore. I'm stuck in this apartment with my asian roommates and their computers and high-tech cellular phones. I'm discriminated against for being a white non-jew male. The roommates are actually okay, but life has become boring for us. The most we get out of life anymore is in sending threatening letters to our professors and jokes out to the class about how we want to kill each other. Some in the class think we are retarded, but I guess that's all part of being stuck up. Some people laughed-those that know how to.  I guess I just haven't found my niche to match my sense of humor and adventure. Then again this is med school and I'll never again be able to test heroin on rats or be able to set off bombs in trash bins, drive at 60 in a 25 or imitate people to their faces and not care about the reprecussions. There's so much to give up in being a doctor. Maybe I'm just not cut-out for this lifestyle of helping people.