Hooray

[harp]

Monday: No phone call from the school so far to say that I bombed the final and need to take another one. So either they'll call early tomorrow or I'm actually clear. Clear to worry about Chemistry and all of the other things that want worrying about, that is.

Today: Got a text from classmate El. Dean Smith made all the scary phone calls yesterday, and since I didn't get one, that means I'm moving on to semester two of McAllister School for Deathcraft and Deathery.


The next semester starts on the last day of the month. I'll be looking at
Chemistry (Aieee scary! D:)
Pathology (wherein we sit and listen to the teacher describe various diseases and we imagine we're getting them)
Color and Cosmology (make the dead sexy)
Accounting (Yeeeeah, math... I don't know how to math...)
Anatomy II (bones, bones, bones)
Other classes I can't recall right now

And, of course, embalming II. Every week, there's a thing called "Morgue" which is 'zactly what it sounds like- we go to the morgue and we embalm John and Jane Does. I really wish I could take pictures, but that would get me kicked out of school quicker than blinking :(

Going to go search for youtube videos about chemistry now. Wish this headache would go away.

Comments

[theonlymeyouget.livejournal.com]

EVERY time I read one of your Death School posts I think of this story:

I have a cousin who is mortician. His name is Duane, and assistant was named Greg.

One night, I was supposed to pick up Duane at the funeral parlor and take him to my grandmother's house. Our signals had gotten crossed and he thought he was supposed to pick ME up and then go there, so while I was en route to the funeral parlor, he was on the way to my house.

I got there, and there was no sign of Duane. I went downstairs and this is what I saw:

Greg, with his shirt off, standing by a cadaver, and his waist was at head-level with the cadaver. Greg was clearly holding his "equipment" (his own, not the cadaver's).

I was all "OMG uhhhh WUT???"

He stammered "Isweartogodthisisnotwhatitlookslike".

Turned out, he thought he was alone (he had been, before I came in) the AC had gone out, he was hot and so he took his shirt off. What I had caught him doing, was urinating in the sink.

He could never quite look me in the eyes after that though.

[barsukthom.livejournal.com]

Poor Greg.
"The leading cause of Death by Embarrassment is CARELESSNESS."

[ozen.livejournal.com]

Greg sounds like he could be a recurring character on SNL.

By the end of this story, the most alarming part, to me, is what I imagine to be the extreme unpleasantness of being in a room that's hot enough to warrant disrobing... with a cadaver. Heat and dead things don't usually get along.

[harpsi-fizz.livejournal.com]

I'm thinking what Oz was- heat + the dead, bleeeegh D: