Two short snippets about two of my best girlfriends:

Had the day off yesterday and had plenty of errands to run, so of course I went shopping with Beck. I ended up buying underwear (have to get down to skivvies on Friday for an interview- don’t ask) and an adorable pair of ballet flats. I was also eyeing the new Nike running shoes with the Ipod attachment pieces. The shoes are awesome now, and I made Becky stare at them over in the shoe department. I was explaining to her the purpose of the shocks and other features when she started to wander away. I look to where she’s inching, and she’s found herself a pair of deep red pumps with tiny beading. She’s murmuring softly to them, looks up at me and goes “Now these are my kind of running shoe.”

Other girlfriend Meredith just moved across the country to go to vet school. She is one of the perkiest, cutest, brilliant girls I’ve met in awhile. She’s even running for class president, that’s how darn perky she is. Beck and I called her on speakerphone while driving home from the mall (sidenote: we decided to use her Garmin to avoid highways and ended up driving through some pretty scary areas. We heard a car backfire and thought it was a gunshot. To which she angrily mumbled “I wish Garmin made an ‘avoid ghettos’ just like its ‘avoid highways.'” The drive home also took us an hour longer.) We can immediately tell that something has happened because Mer sounds sad.

She then tells us that she was the first person to injure herself at vet school. (Another sidenote: if you are particularly squeamish, you might not want to keep reading this) So for classes, she has to use a set of equiptment for the surgical procedures. Her set is mostly like the ones that you use in basic anatomy classes- the scalpel, the scissors, the puke bag- but it also has a giant bone-cutting butcher knife. She decided to take all of her tools with her before class and put them in her locker. Her giant butcher knife had a plastic safety guard over it, so she tossed it in her bag with the other ones and started walking. Halfway across campus, some guy stops her to point out that there is blood running down her leg- the insane bone-cutting butcher knife had sliced its protective guard, cut through her bag and (shudder) embedded itself in her knee. It was such a clean cut that she didn’t even notice. When we stopped talking to her last night, she was debating whether or not to stitch it up herself. My favorite bit of the story was that, while walking back with a bloody leg, she kept telling passing people “watch out for those doors, the corners are really sharp!”