So I spent the weekend in Chicago.
Oh, did I not mention I was going to Chicago?
Yeah, that was rather on purpose. I was supposed to go over New Year's, right, and then that fell through. And I haven't seen my Chicago crew in...yikes, almost ten months. And of course, Robin's little guy is two and a half, Bei's two are four and a half and just over a year. They're all growing so fast. And then my friend of nearly three decades, Ali, is having a baby next month. So when New Year's fell apart, I thought Ali's baby shower seemed like the perfect excuse to fly in. I decided to surprise her, so we kept it quiet. I didn't even clue her husband or Bei in until this past week. And the weekend was a raving success.
We actually arranged it so that I surprised her Saturday night, instead of at the actual shower on Sunday. She was definitely surprised, it was so good to see everyone. We had an awesome weekend. Claudia picked me up from the airport Saturday morning, we had coffee and chatted, and then had lunch at my favorite Greek restaurant. From there we headed to Robin's, where we all met up and watched (well, some of us "watched") football and ordered pizza. I made this drink that one of my Villagers taught me, which was a hit. We talked, and laughed, and ate real pizza (Chicago-style, baby!). We played with the kids. We were a little kiddish ourselves. It was great.
Sunday I saw my cousins from the North Side for breakfast, and then we had the shower, hosted by Claud and Jer's sisters. It was fun. The games were non-obnoxious, the cake was excellent, and the company was great. We met some neat new people. And then the girls went back to Robin's for Wii Pictionary and Mexican food, which Jer was kind enough to deliver to us. And, you know, just being us girls. Monday Robin and little Luke and I went over to Bei's, and then hung out until it was time to take me to the airport.
Where I was for a very long time. My flight kept getting delayed. I was supposed to be on the ground and back to my house by about 8pm, originally; instead, I got home at almost 1am. I spent a lot of time wandering around O'Hare. Ate some more pizza. Bought a Cosmo. Discovered I've possibly outgrown Cosmo. Drank some iced tea. Nearly finished the hat I've been knitting (I needed DPNs, which I didn't have). Finally got on the plane, and we sat on the tarmac for almost an hour. It was a teeny-tiny plane, and I didn't fit especially well into the seat. So I was uncomfortable, and feeling giganamous, and the woman in the seat next to me was clearly irritated to be sitting next to such a fatty. However, she spent the whole flight flopping onto my side of the armrest and snoring like a chainsaw. I actually apologized to that bitch at the beginning of the flight for being so fat! Ridiculous. Whatever. We eventually got back to NC, and Bill came out in the middle of the damn night and picked me up, which was awesome of him.
But on the whole, the weekend was just so awesome. I miss my Chicago people. It was so nice to see everybody, and so nice to be back with the group I grew up with that knows me so well. And how amazing it is for me to have such a group of people who know me so well, who I came up with through the early part of my life, who are still so close to me. How great that I still count them among the most important supports that I have, even when I'm 850 miles away. And how blessed am I to have both groups here and in Chicago that are so comfortable and awesome.
Showing posts with label Chicago. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chicago. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Sunday night
Today was lovely here. Got up late, ate breakfast, napped, went to the gym, had dinner with Claud, traipsed around Target...can't complain. Sundays at home I usually try to go meet up with my old knitting group, but I think they were mostly out of town this weekend.
Also? It's cold out there.
I spent my time at the gym (going very slooooowly on the treadmill, yawn) watching CNN, which was of course talking about today's airplane incident, thinking about how much I don't want to fly back to NC. Apparently, someone also blew up a couple of people in Lebanon, which seems suspicious to me, given that this is the one-year anniversary of the Gaza assaults.
I don't understand war, y'all. Not for a moment. It's all just senseless to me.
Also? It's cold out there.
I spent my time at the gym (going very slooooowly on the treadmill, yawn) watching CNN, which was of course talking about today's airplane incident, thinking about how much I don't want to fly back to NC. Apparently, someone also blew up a couple of people in Lebanon, which seems suspicious to me, given that this is the one-year anniversary of the Gaza assaults.
I don't understand war, y'all. Not for a moment. It's all just senseless to me.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Ho ho ho
I'm in Chicago!!
Left my house at 4-freakin-am, with the anticipation that I'd have to sit in the terminal and wait a bunch of hours, but as it turns out my 6am flight left right on time. And despite losing my favorite necklace somewhere in the transition (I'm crushed. Seriously. I was wearing it precisely so I *wouldn't* lose it), the trip was largely uneventful.
Except....well, for this:
I was sitting behind them on the plane, too. They were very nice people, as one might imagine. And they pleasantly tolerated all the comments about, "Hey, is the sleigh in the shop?" I asked if there was an outbreak of Reindeer Flu.
But the best response to this, by far, was this, which my friend penned on my FB page:
Twas the night before Christmas and in RDU,
St. Nick waited patiently to check luggage through.
The desk agent saw him and shouted with glee
"I trust that you're Santa but I still need ID"
"And just in case the sign wasn't clear,
Your pets must be crated unless they're service reindeer"
The TSA agent took one look at his sack,
And said "sorry you'll have to leave some stuff back"
"The cookies are fine, but the milk's got to go,
You have way more than three ounces you know"
"We will happily let through Dasher and Dancer,
But this one's red nose has set off our sensors!"
Santa said "Rudolph's fine, see he's on my nice list!
I always background check for terrorists!"
So with out any milk and a reindeer detained,
Santa begrudgingly boarded the plane.
And he exclaimed as the Boeing took off and was gone,
"Next year I'm staying home and using Amazon!"
Merry Christmas, y'all. May it be a blessed and magical one.
Left my house at 4-freakin-am, with the anticipation that I'd have to sit in the terminal and wait a bunch of hours, but as it turns out my 6am flight left right on time. And despite losing my favorite necklace somewhere in the transition (I'm crushed. Seriously. I was wearing it precisely so I *wouldn't* lose it), the trip was largely uneventful.
Except....well, for this:
I was sitting behind them on the plane, too. They were very nice people, as one might imagine. And they pleasantly tolerated all the comments about, "Hey, is the sleigh in the shop?" I asked if there was an outbreak of Reindeer Flu.But the best response to this, by far, was this, which my friend penned on my FB page:
Twas the night before Christmas and in RDU,
St. Nick waited patiently to check luggage through.
The desk agent saw him and shouted with glee
"I trust that you're Santa but I still need ID"
"And just in case the sign wasn't clear,
Your pets must be crated unless they're service reindeer"
The TSA agent took one look at his sack,
And said "sorry you'll have to leave some stuff back"
"The cookies are fine, but the milk's got to go,
You have way more than three ounces you know"
"We will happily let through Dasher and Dancer,
But this one's red nose has set off our sensors!"
Santa said "Rudolph's fine, see he's on my nice list!
I always background check for terrorists!"
So with out any milk and a reindeer detained,
Santa begrudgingly boarded the plane.
And he exclaimed as the Boeing took off and was gone,
"Next year I'm staying home and using Amazon!"
Merry Christmas, y'all. May it be a blessed and magical one.
Monday, October 12, 2009
"In 20 years, there will be a pork roast in your luggage."
So here's a funny story.
I've been to Hawaii a couple of times before. My parents are big fans (understandably), and so whenever they have enough frequent flier miles accrued and can finagle the timeshare, we go. This has worked out to I think four times in my life (they went once without me. I think this is my fourth trip, although I'm not entirely sure...). And having done this a couple of times, they've learned a few tricks. Not the least of which is that everything on the island is expensive, so we tend to pad our suitcases with some staple items that we can buy cheaper here. The timeshare always has a kitchenette, so we eat what we take and then have room in the suitcases to bring stuff back that we acquire there. Makes sense, right? For this trip (which is really the first time I've gone as an adult), I have spaghetti, sauce, peanut butter and strawberry preserves, etc.
About 13 years ago (holy shit...), we went after I graduated from high school, and we took Claudia along (because what 17 year old wants to be stuck on an island with her parents for two weeks when she could be exploring the city of Honolulu with her best friend, boarding surreal buses full of people who don't speak English and having sketchy guys offer them weed on street corners?). Which, great, we fly in, we get there, and we're at the condo unpacking, and my mother produces from their suitcase...a pork roast.
Claud and I were like, what??
They'd frozen it here, packed it in a cooler, and dragged the frozen hunk of meat like 6000 miles. Which had more or less thawed by the time we got there. Which was, apparently, the plan.
Claudia was fairly baffled by this. I kind of rolled my eyes - after all, they were *my* parents (I was a little more used to them. Suffice it to say, neurotic apples do not fall far from their trees). Although...in retrospect...I'm not sure I actually ate the pork roast. I don't think they ever did convince me that no food safety rules were breached by letting the thing ride in the cargo hold...
I had a really nice day in Chicago today. I bought a new 75-300 zoom lens for the Rebel. Claudia and I drove out to our favorite restaurant from my college days, just over the Indiana border, and then we drove around my college campus for a while (wow, have they made some interesting architectural choices...). And then we met up with the whole crew for dinner, including my two completely adorable nephews, who are now one and three (again, holy crap). We ate, we laughed, we talked, we had a good, good, good time. And they made fun of me for packing food in my suitcase, which led to the comment that became the title of this post.
Gosh, I miss y'all up here.
And then, in like 7 hours, my uncle (the actual, genetic one) is coming to take us to the airport, so we can all spend a really long time on a plane. And then be in Hawaii.
I don't think there are any pork products stowing away in our luggage this time, though....
I've been to Hawaii a couple of times before. My parents are big fans (understandably), and so whenever they have enough frequent flier miles accrued and can finagle the timeshare, we go. This has worked out to I think four times in my life (they went once without me. I think this is my fourth trip, although I'm not entirely sure...). And having done this a couple of times, they've learned a few tricks. Not the least of which is that everything on the island is expensive, so we tend to pad our suitcases with some staple items that we can buy cheaper here. The timeshare always has a kitchenette, so we eat what we take and then have room in the suitcases to bring stuff back that we acquire there. Makes sense, right? For this trip (which is really the first time I've gone as an adult), I have spaghetti, sauce, peanut butter and strawberry preserves, etc.
About 13 years ago (holy shit...), we went after I graduated from high school, and we took Claudia along (because what 17 year old wants to be stuck on an island with her parents for two weeks when she could be exploring the city of Honolulu with her best friend, boarding surreal buses full of people who don't speak English and having sketchy guys offer them weed on street corners?). Which, great, we fly in, we get there, and we're at the condo unpacking, and my mother produces from their suitcase...a pork roast.
Claud and I were like, what??
They'd frozen it here, packed it in a cooler, and dragged the frozen hunk of meat like 6000 miles. Which had more or less thawed by the time we got there. Which was, apparently, the plan.
Claudia was fairly baffled by this. I kind of rolled my eyes - after all, they were *my* parents (I was a little more used to them. Suffice it to say, neurotic apples do not fall far from their trees). Although...in retrospect...I'm not sure I actually ate the pork roast. I don't think they ever did convince me that no food safety rules were breached by letting the thing ride in the cargo hold...
I had a really nice day in Chicago today. I bought a new 75-300 zoom lens for the Rebel. Claudia and I drove out to our favorite restaurant from my college days, just over the Indiana border, and then we drove around my college campus for a while (wow, have they made some interesting architectural choices...). And then we met up with the whole crew for dinner, including my two completely adorable nephews, who are now one and three (again, holy crap). We ate, we laughed, we talked, we had a good, good, good time. And they made fun of me for packing food in my suitcase, which led to the comment that became the title of this post.
Gosh, I miss y'all up here.
And then, in like 7 hours, my uncle (the actual, genetic one) is coming to take us to the airport, so we can all spend a really long time on a plane. And then be in Hawaii.
I don't think there are any pork products stowing away in our luggage this time, though....
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Thursday confessional
I have a confession to make.
I really like the South.
I think that somewhere, at my core, I am a Southerner. I like to think of it in the same way I consider red to be my natural hair color, just not the one that grows in.
Don't get me wrong, I love Chicago. Great city. Good people. Shitty-ass weather. Freakin' traffic nightmares. Really craptastic weather (it's so grey here. I forgot about the grey).
Down south, we have sun. We have breezier days and sweet tea and Southern Hospitality. Nobody owns a snow blower. I'm equally day-trip close to the beach and to the mountains. There's way the heck more sunlight. Did I mention how significantly less grey it is down there?
Truth be told, I could be very happy staying in the South. Chicago would be a place I came to visit every year or two when I was feeling nostalgic and wanted good pizza. If it all came down to logistics, I'd sign on to be a "damn Yankee" in a heartbeat.
(Because you know the difference, right? A Yankee is someone who comes from up no'th. A damn Yankee is one who comes and never leaves.)
But here's the rub.
I have these people in Chicago. Family of both the genetic and voluntary sort. And every time I come up here, I feel so acutely the problem of being away from them.
My God daughter came over for lunch today. She's seven, and she's awesome. Smart kid (duh), just funny as heck. Kicked my butt in checkers. We went to pick up the pizza together - just us - and had a little girl talk. She's at that stage where she's just starting to figure out that the world really is bigger than her and she's trying so hard to make sense of it. She's an amazing kid. I also really like her mom, Shelly (her dad is actually the one I'm related to. When they got divorced, Shelly got custody of us). Oh, my word, I adore that kid.
And then I went over to Robin and Brad's for burgers on the grill. We assembled the usual crew, our core group of people who've been friends literally forever. And oh...my God...I can't even tell you how good that feels. I was sitting there tonight, at Robin's kitchen table, in the kitchen that Brad remodeled himself, with these people...them, and their one year old son, who just steals my little heart every single time he smiles. Bianca and Steve (Steve may have had a different pseudonym before...it's 1am and I can't quite remember...) and their almost-three-year-old, who is like my favorite little boy (is he still a "toddler?" He sure isn't toddling...) in the whole wide world. Ali and Jer, whose wedding I was in, who, Ali and I have been friends since we were four and Jer and I lived together for two years. And Claudia, who's the closest thing I have to a real sister. I'm looking around at them tonight, and thinking of us all in high school (well, not Steve and Jer, they were later additions), sitting around the cafeteria tables. Doing choir and band and voice lessons. Going to school dances and football games. Ali and I climbing trees when we were little.
It seems, somehow, in retrospect, like such a simpler time. In truth, it was not. Adolescence is never easy (one of our attendings likes to say, "Puberty isn't good for anyone."), but we had a heaping pile of other crap to deal with, you know? Abuse and death and divorce and depression and all sorts of shit that adolescence is just NOT the time to be dealing with, but, you know, that seems to be such a time when life happens. Not just for our little clan and our friends, but for everyone.
And I look at us now, and we still have a lot of shit. But somewhere along the way, we turned into real grown-ups. With kids and lives and jobs and mortgages. With spouses and doctoral degrees and sensible cars and lawn mowers and dog walkers. With indescribable joys and unspeakable heartaches.
I cannot imagine my life without these people.
And while I think about staying in the South, or doing other fellowships elsewhere after I'm done with Child, or living in places like New York or Seattle or Canada, and I think about never spending another winter in Chicago, and living in a place where there's sun and beach and things that grow, and it all seems so utterly delightful...I cannot imagine myself being, long term, away from the minutia of our daily lives. Away from this, my chosen family. Away from my genetic family. Away from my cousins and my God daughter and my other good friends in the area. Not in any sort of permanent way. My roots are so deep here.
But I love what I do, and I love where I do it. I love the idea of experiencing different places and doing different things and establishing a life that is very authentically my own.
I do not know how to reconcile these things.
Fortunately, I have at least three years before the need to figure this out becomes more immediate. But, I? Have absolutely no idea how I'm going to do that...
I really like the South.
I think that somewhere, at my core, I am a Southerner. I like to think of it in the same way I consider red to be my natural hair color, just not the one that grows in.
Don't get me wrong, I love Chicago. Great city. Good people. Shitty-ass weather. Freakin' traffic nightmares. Really craptastic weather (it's so grey here. I forgot about the grey).
Down south, we have sun. We have breezier days and sweet tea and Southern Hospitality. Nobody owns a snow blower. I'm equally day-trip close to the beach and to the mountains. There's way the heck more sunlight. Did I mention how significantly less grey it is down there?
Truth be told, I could be very happy staying in the South. Chicago would be a place I came to visit every year or two when I was feeling nostalgic and wanted good pizza. If it all came down to logistics, I'd sign on to be a "damn Yankee" in a heartbeat.
(Because you know the difference, right? A Yankee is someone who comes from up no'th. A damn Yankee is one who comes and never leaves.)
But here's the rub.
I have these people in Chicago. Family of both the genetic and voluntary sort. And every time I come up here, I feel so acutely the problem of being away from them.
My God daughter came over for lunch today. She's seven, and she's awesome. Smart kid (duh), just funny as heck. Kicked my butt in checkers. We went to pick up the pizza together - just us - and had a little girl talk. She's at that stage where she's just starting to figure out that the world really is bigger than her and she's trying so hard to make sense of it. She's an amazing kid. I also really like her mom, Shelly (her dad is actually the one I'm related to. When they got divorced, Shelly got custody of us). Oh, my word, I adore that kid.
And then I went over to Robin and Brad's for burgers on the grill. We assembled the usual crew, our core group of people who've been friends literally forever. And oh...my God...I can't even tell you how good that feels. I was sitting there tonight, at Robin's kitchen table, in the kitchen that Brad remodeled himself, with these people...them, and their one year old son, who just steals my little heart every single time he smiles. Bianca and Steve (Steve may have had a different pseudonym before...it's 1am and I can't quite remember...) and their almost-three-year-old, who is like my favorite little boy (is he still a "toddler?" He sure isn't toddling...) in the whole wide world. Ali and Jer, whose wedding I was in, who, Ali and I have been friends since we were four and Jer and I lived together for two years. And Claudia, who's the closest thing I have to a real sister. I'm looking around at them tonight, and thinking of us all in high school (well, not Steve and Jer, they were later additions), sitting around the cafeteria tables. Doing choir and band and voice lessons. Going to school dances and football games. Ali and I climbing trees when we were little.
It seems, somehow, in retrospect, like such a simpler time. In truth, it was not. Adolescence is never easy (one of our attendings likes to say, "Puberty isn't good for anyone."), but we had a heaping pile of other crap to deal with, you know? Abuse and death and divorce and depression and all sorts of shit that adolescence is just NOT the time to be dealing with, but, you know, that seems to be such a time when life happens. Not just for our little clan and our friends, but for everyone.
And I look at us now, and we still have a lot of shit. But somewhere along the way, we turned into real grown-ups. With kids and lives and jobs and mortgages. With spouses and doctoral degrees and sensible cars and lawn mowers and dog walkers. With indescribable joys and unspeakable heartaches.
I cannot imagine my life without these people.
And while I think about staying in the South, or doing other fellowships elsewhere after I'm done with Child, or living in places like New York or Seattle or Canada, and I think about never spending another winter in Chicago, and living in a place where there's sun and beach and things that grow, and it all seems so utterly delightful...I cannot imagine myself being, long term, away from the minutia of our daily lives. Away from this, my chosen family. Away from my genetic family. Away from my cousins and my God daughter and my other good friends in the area. Not in any sort of permanent way. My roots are so deep here.
But I love what I do, and I love where I do it. I love the idea of experiencing different places and doing different things and establishing a life that is very authentically my own.
I do not know how to reconcile these things.
Fortunately, I have at least three years before the need to figure this out becomes more immediate. But, I? Have absolutely no idea how I'm going to do that...
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
Windy
So I'm in Chicago. And glad to be out of the car. But it's going to be a busy, busy week...
I had dinner with my cousins and my uncle tonight. I adore them, I do, but sometimes I wonder how I came out of this family (i.e., we were talking about a news story at dinner, and my cousin says, "Well, what do you expect, he's black?" I was like, really?? Because last time I checked white kids shot people too. And Hispanic kids, and Asian kids, and - wait for it - Greek kids).
I also set my parents up on Facebook. Apparently my mom's friends from work have been pestering her to join. Seriously, I find this weird. Not in a bad way, just...in a weird way.
I keep thinking of a news story I read a couple of years ago about how there was this big shift of teenagers over to Friendster because there were too many "old people" (my age) on Facebook. My father's going to be 77 tomorrow. I doubt this bothers the teenagers too much, though, because clearly they all came back...
Tomorrow, as I mentioned, is my dad's birthday (happy birthday, Dad!). We're going to go to breakfast. Claud and I are going to hang out in the afternoon. Thursday my God daughter and her mom are coming for lunch, and then the crew is assembling at Robin's for burgers on the grill (mmmm). Friday my cousins (different ones) are coming for dinner. Saturday the whole family descends, and on Sunday, I will knit. I'm hoping to work in a couple of other friends, too, or maybe more time with the same friends. Then back in the car on Monday, home and pick up Ms. Mags on Tuesday, back to work Friday. So at least I get a couple of days to chill out and unpack my house...
Whew. I need a vacation from this vacation!
In other, not so pleasant news, I got word tonight that my friend's boyhood friend is in hospice and has about two weeks left. Keep them in your thoughts and prayers. And remind all the men my age that you know that think they're young and healthy and invincible that they're exactly the ones testicular cancer strikes. Regular checkups, self exams - it's important stuff. To you, and the people who love you.
I had dinner with my cousins and my uncle tonight. I adore them, I do, but sometimes I wonder how I came out of this family (i.e., we were talking about a news story at dinner, and my cousin says, "Well, what do you expect, he's black?" I was like, really?? Because last time I checked white kids shot people too. And Hispanic kids, and Asian kids, and - wait for it - Greek kids).
I also set my parents up on Facebook. Apparently my mom's friends from work have been pestering her to join. Seriously, I find this weird. Not in a bad way, just...in a weird way.
I keep thinking of a news story I read a couple of years ago about how there was this big shift of teenagers over to Friendster because there were too many "old people" (my age) on Facebook. My father's going to be 77 tomorrow. I doubt this bothers the teenagers too much, though, because clearly they all came back...
Tomorrow, as I mentioned, is my dad's birthday (happy birthday, Dad!). We're going to go to breakfast. Claud and I are going to hang out in the afternoon. Thursday my God daughter and her mom are coming for lunch, and then the crew is assembling at Robin's for burgers on the grill (mmmm). Friday my cousins (different ones) are coming for dinner. Saturday the whole family descends, and on Sunday, I will knit. I'm hoping to work in a couple of other friends, too, or maybe more time with the same friends. Then back in the car on Monday, home and pick up Ms. Mags on Tuesday, back to work Friday. So at least I get a couple of days to chill out and unpack my house...
Whew. I need a vacation from this vacation!
In other, not so pleasant news, I got word tonight that my friend's boyhood friend is in hospice and has about two weeks left. Keep them in your thoughts and prayers. And remind all the men my age that you know that think they're young and healthy and invincible that they're exactly the ones testicular cancer strikes. Regular checkups, self exams - it's important stuff. To you, and the people who love you.
Monday, July 06, 2009
Oh, and did I mention...
...I'm on my way to Chicago.
Jenn pointed out to me today that, what with all the wedding chaos going on, I neglected to mention (or, for that matter, think much about) the fact that I'm on VACATION for the next 10 days. And currently on my way back to the Chi for a week of that.
So my day, today, has been this:
1. Oversleep.
2. Haul my sorry ass out of bed.
3. Throw some clothes on.
4.Take dog to kennel.
5. Miss dog.
6. Realize I have no idea what pants I actually put on (but they're fine).
7. Go to new gym and get ass kicked by new trainer (on a side note? I really like the new trainer).
8. Come home. Shower. Put different random clothes on.
9. Swear a lot as try to assemble what I need to take to Chicago. "Pack" by throwing what clothes I want to take into a laundry basket, and the rest of the stuff (plus a different shirt...don't know why I apparently decided to wear the same pants and didn't think I was going to shower tomorrow, but, whatever) into an overnight bag.
10. Mess around on Facebook.
11. Realize I wanted to leave a half hour ago.
12. Swear some more.
13. Clean out the car.
14. Go to the bank.
15. Pick up new glasses.
16. Wear new glasses (I never wear glasses).
17. Obsess about new glasses every time I'm near a mirror and multiple other times (maybe I should've gotten the other frames? I hate having no peripheral vision. Ooh, the polarized sunglasses are awfully nice. I think my nose is wrong. The fact that these correct for my astigmatism makes everything all bendy, relative to my contacts. Ugh, I'm going to have to sleep without my contacts if I'm going to wear my glasses for a few days. I hate waking up and not being able to see. Maybe I should just screw this whole "glasses" idea and get Lasik).
18. Drive.
19. Drive some more.
20. Drive even more than that.
21. Subsist primarily on cheese, fruit, and occasional Doritos.
22. Hit three separate Starbucks and play Black Eyed Peas' new CD very loudly for the majority of the trip.
23. Decide I've had enough driving somewhere in the middle of Kentucky when I approach an exit that has signs boasting "Starbucks," "Steak 'n' Shake," and "Fairfield Inn." Score.
24. Check in and schlep cooler and overnight bag (both heavy) to room.
25. Call parents. Remember that I'm already overbooked for the time that I'm home, and that's just family stuff.
26. Log on to wifi. Spend a ridiculous amount of time on Facebook.
27. Realize it's suddenly gotten dark in my room and I forgot to eat dinner. Swear at Facebook. More cheese and grapes.
28. Attempt to blog.
29. Get distracted by email and Facebook.
30. Give up and go to bed.
Jenn pointed out to me today that, what with all the wedding chaos going on, I neglected to mention (or, for that matter, think much about) the fact that I'm on VACATION for the next 10 days. And currently on my way back to the Chi for a week of that.
So my day, today, has been this:
1. Oversleep.
2. Haul my sorry ass out of bed.
3. Throw some clothes on.
4.Take dog to kennel.
5. Miss dog.
6. Realize I have no idea what pants I actually put on (but they're fine).
7. Go to new gym and get ass kicked by new trainer (on a side note? I really like the new trainer).
8. Come home. Shower. Put different random clothes on.
9. Swear a lot as try to assemble what I need to take to Chicago. "Pack" by throwing what clothes I want to take into a laundry basket, and the rest of the stuff (plus a different shirt...don't know why I apparently decided to wear the same pants and didn't think I was going to shower tomorrow, but, whatever) into an overnight bag.
10. Mess around on Facebook.
11. Realize I wanted to leave a half hour ago.
12. Swear some more.
13. Clean out the car.
14. Go to the bank.
15. Pick up new glasses.
16. Wear new glasses (I never wear glasses).
17. Obsess about new glasses every time I'm near a mirror and multiple other times (maybe I should've gotten the other frames? I hate having no peripheral vision. Ooh, the polarized sunglasses are awfully nice. I think my nose is wrong. The fact that these correct for my astigmatism makes everything all bendy, relative to my contacts. Ugh, I'm going to have to sleep without my contacts if I'm going to wear my glasses for a few days. I hate waking up and not being able to see. Maybe I should just screw this whole "glasses" idea and get Lasik).
18. Drive.
19. Drive some more.
20. Drive even more than that.
21. Subsist primarily on cheese, fruit, and occasional Doritos.
22. Hit three separate Starbucks and play Black Eyed Peas' new CD very loudly for the majority of the trip.
23. Decide I've had enough driving somewhere in the middle of Kentucky when I approach an exit that has signs boasting "Starbucks," "Steak 'n' Shake," and "Fairfield Inn." Score.
24. Check in and schlep cooler and overnight bag (both heavy) to room.
25. Call parents. Remember that I'm already overbooked for the time that I'm home, and that's just family stuff.
26. Log on to wifi. Spend a ridiculous amount of time on Facebook.
27. Realize it's suddenly gotten dark in my room and I forgot to eat dinner. Swear at Facebook. More cheese and grapes.
28. Attempt to blog.
29. Get distracted by email and Facebook.
30. Give up and go to bed.
Sunday, January 04, 2009
Airport blogging
So I'm sitting at the gate across from mine because mine didn't seem to have any available computer seats (Southwest has these great little bar things set up with stools and outlets. They're not the most comfortable seats in the house...my right leg has been asleep for about ten minutes), and watching the 12:55 flight to Raleigh line up to board. It's currently 3 pm. But, at least they're boarding by the predicted delayed time...in theory, we're leaving at 4:50. Don't know why we're delayed - it's grey and sad in Chicago, but I've heard it's wet and nasty in Raleigh. Still...
I've checked all my email, home and work. I've screwed around on Facebook. I've read CNN.com. I checked my EMR messages and looked at my schedule for tomorrow (and discovered I'm double-booked in the afternoon. Welcome back!!). I would take a walk, but my backpack is heavy and I can't feel my right leg. I'm tired. I'm cranky. And I'm, officially, bored.
Aren't you glad I decided that blogging seemed like the next logical thing to do?
It's been a good week. Hectic, but really nice to see everyone. As always, I find returning to my real life a little bittersweet, because I like my life, on the whole, but I invariably forget how much I miss everyone back home. My friends' kids are getting huge. Life, of course, moves on without me here. I think my assignment to Baby Blue was the best possible way things could've happened almost two years ago, but being here always stirs up the, "what am I going to do with myself in the long run?" question. There are a lot (LOT) of things I don't miss about living in Chicago (like this steel-grey day we're having) or that I like better about the south, but I really miss my family (genetic and otherwise). I don't know that the mental health opportunities I want exist up here, but, I guess I don't really know that. I like my life, and I anticipate that by the time I'm ready to make this decision, I'll have even stronger ties to the area in which I currently live, but...still....
Whatever, y'all. It's hopefully a good three and a half years before I have to actually make this decision. At least. And who knows how things might change between now and then. I'm just mopey. And exhausted.
Don't they have a nap room at Midway?? Oooh, but at least my flight's been moved up to 4:45...
I've checked all my email, home and work. I've screwed around on Facebook. I've read CNN.com. I checked my EMR messages and looked at my schedule for tomorrow (and discovered I'm double-booked in the afternoon. Welcome back!!). I would take a walk, but my backpack is heavy and I can't feel my right leg. I'm tired. I'm cranky. And I'm, officially, bored.
Aren't you glad I decided that blogging seemed like the next logical thing to do?
It's been a good week. Hectic, but really nice to see everyone. As always, I find returning to my real life a little bittersweet, because I like my life, on the whole, but I invariably forget how much I miss everyone back home. My friends' kids are getting huge. Life, of course, moves on without me here. I think my assignment to Baby Blue was the best possible way things could've happened almost two years ago, but being here always stirs up the, "what am I going to do with myself in the long run?" question. There are a lot (LOT) of things I don't miss about living in Chicago (like this steel-grey day we're having) or that I like better about the south, but I really miss my family (genetic and otherwise). I don't know that the mental health opportunities I want exist up here, but, I guess I don't really know that. I like my life, and I anticipate that by the time I'm ready to make this decision, I'll have even stronger ties to the area in which I currently live, but...still....
Whatever, y'all. It's hopefully a good three and a half years before I have to actually make this decision. At least. And who knows how things might change between now and then. I'm just mopey. And exhausted.
Don't they have a nap room at Midway?? Oooh, but at least my flight's been moved up to 4:45...
Saturday, January 03, 2009
GB
So today was the little Greek gathering. There ended up being about 30 of us. It was loud, and funny, and a heck of a good time. My aunt Aphrodite gave a speech about how all of her bridesmaids' daughters turned out to be doctors, because no one ever told us we couldn't do it, so we did it!
I laughed, because, well, plenty of people have told us (or at least me) we couldn't do it. Or shouldn't, as it were.
Our generation has finally stopped caring, is all.
I love being Greek, even when I don't like it so much. We're loud and outspoken and emotive and all about family and our people invented art and democracy and all other things that are good (don't believe me? Ask any Greek you know. Go on, ask them). We're critical and passive-aggressive and we may even do a better job of guilt than the Jews, but we're there when you need us (and we'll bring food). We're pushy and full of life and we assimilate everyone we can and we're out to feed the world. Opa!!
(I'm thinking of offering a class for Greeks entitled, "What needs to not be unsaid" (yes, that's deliberately convoluted). Lessons will include things like "You're welcome to take credit for my success if you want, the line forms over there," "No, really, I'm not actually a kid anymore (although you're welcome to continue to think of me as 'Little Katy')" and "It's really okay to say 'I'm proud of you' instead of 'don't let us down.'" The advanced class, which I'm thinking of calling "What we can learn from the white people," will have offerings such as "Catastrophizing: when it's okay to not make everything into a crisis," "Toning down the histrionics," and "You really don't have to bring up everything I've ever done wrong because I apparently took a 'tone' with you.")
It was a wonderful time. We ate and caught up and laughed and told stories. We stayed until they started breaking down our tables. And I got presents, which, bonus.
It's been a good week at home.
I laughed, because, well, plenty of people have told us (or at least me) we couldn't do it. Or shouldn't, as it were.
Our generation has finally stopped caring, is all.
I love being Greek, even when I don't like it so much. We're loud and outspoken and emotive and all about family and our people invented art and democracy and all other things that are good (don't believe me? Ask any Greek you know. Go on, ask them). We're critical and passive-aggressive and we may even do a better job of guilt than the Jews, but we're there when you need us (and we'll bring food). We're pushy and full of life and we assimilate everyone we can and we're out to feed the world. Opa!!
(I'm thinking of offering a class for Greeks entitled, "What needs to not be unsaid" (yes, that's deliberately convoluted). Lessons will include things like "You're welcome to take credit for my success if you want, the line forms over there," "No, really, I'm not actually a kid anymore (although you're welcome to continue to think of me as 'Little Katy')" and "It's really okay to say 'I'm proud of you' instead of 'don't let us down.'" The advanced class, which I'm thinking of calling "What we can learn from the white people," will have offerings such as "Catastrophizing: when it's okay to not make everything into a crisis," "Toning down the histrionics," and "You really don't have to bring up everything I've ever done wrong because I apparently took a 'tone' with you.")
It was a wonderful time. We ate and caught up and laughed and told stories. We stayed until they started breaking down our tables. And I got presents, which, bonus.
It's been a good week at home.
Friday, January 02, 2009
More fun.
More good times tonight. It's 1am (for all those of you who are apparently keeping track of my nightlife, a-HEM) and I just got home from the city. Ahh, the life of a socialite....
I had a lovely breakfast out with my folks, after unintentionally sleeping in (so needed it!), and then spent the morning teaching my 76 year old father how to set up and use his very first iPod, a tiny silver Shuffle which I bought him for Christmas, and giving my mom a tour of Facebook. They both were quick studies. Then I stood in line for a while at the Verizon store only to discover that I can't upgrade my phone for another 8 days, and then headed towards the tall part of the state (we have the world's tallest building, here, you know. Spires so don't count). I spent the whole afternoon with Claudia - we went to lunch (Lalo's, for those of you familiar. Yum), and then to Target (one with the cart escalators! Those crack me up) and then for coffee. I knit, she tolerated it well. We chatted. We looked for husbands in the Reader, but did not find any. We then met up with my cousins (not my genetic cousins, but the daughters of my "aunt" and "uncle" who live in NC) and a couple of their friends for dinner and drinks. Good company, good beer, good food, Northside night life. You can't beat it.
It's almost a shame I have to go back to my real life in two days. But, they'd probably notice I was missing at work....
(PS, Peng - don't forget you have to pick me up at the airport!)
I had a lovely breakfast out with my folks, after unintentionally sleeping in (so needed it!), and then spent the morning teaching my 76 year old father how to set up and use his very first iPod, a tiny silver Shuffle which I bought him for Christmas, and giving my mom a tour of Facebook. They both were quick studies. Then I stood in line for a while at the Verizon store only to discover that I can't upgrade my phone for another 8 days, and then headed towards the tall part of the state (we have the world's tallest building, here, you know. Spires so don't count). I spent the whole afternoon with Claudia - we went to lunch (Lalo's, for those of you familiar. Yum), and then to Target (one with the cart escalators! Those crack me up) and then for coffee. I knit, she tolerated it well. We chatted. We looked for husbands in the Reader, but did not find any. We then met up with my cousins (not my genetic cousins, but the daughters of my "aunt" and "uncle" who live in NC) and a couple of their friends for dinner and drinks. Good company, good beer, good food, Northside night life. You can't beat it.
It's almost a shame I have to go back to my real life in two days. But, they'd probably notice I was missing at work....
(PS, Peng - don't forget you have to pick me up at the airport!)
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Let the games begin
So today was sort of my last (of two) day of calm, as it were. I hung out with the folks, my mom and I went shopping, we had my aunt and uncle and cousin over for dinner, whom I haven't seen since February. It was nice. We had Chicago pizza, good wine, and fabulous cookies. And Mai-Tais, with some wicked good pineapple in them. Ahh. Oh! And I bought my dad his first-ever iPod, a little silver Shuffle. I tried to get my mom one, too, but they didn't have blue, and she doesn't think she'd use it (I think she'd be surprised). All in all, a nice day.
Tomorrow, I'm out the door at a quarter past dark to have breakfast with one of my med school buddies. I have a few things I need to do whilst on the west side, and then have a phone appointment at 10:30, and then am heading over to the lovely Bianca's to hang out with her and my nephew, Basil (who's TWO AND A HALF OHMIFREAKINGAWD). After that, I'm going to head over to the equally lovely Robin's to score some time with her and meet my new (um, seven months ago) nephew, Luke. We're going to hang out around there for the evening, for a wonderful evening sans pantalon (NO PANTS!) (It's a long story....which I'll probably tell you tomorrow). We're doing a bring-your-favorite-takeout New Year's, which we've done before and was a raving success. I'm thinking I might order pizza, because, ohh...anyhow, Thursday I'm going to sleep in as long as little Luke will let me, and then am headed up north to hang with my college friend and her wife (take that, Prop 8 bitches) and their two adorable children. And with any luck, I might get to spend some quality time with my awesome Goddaughter on Thursday night.
I sense an impending onslaught of clock-ticking, after all of this baby/kid time in the next few days...
Fortunately, Friday I'm going in to the city for a fun-filled afternoon with Claudia, and then she and my cousins (the ones whose parents are my surrogate family in NC) and I are headed out for a night of single-gal debauchery. Even if my one cousin is married (I really like her hubby, so, I can't really hold that against her). I see fabulous martinis in our future...
Saturday is a smallish extended-family to-do at my cousin Paulie's restaurant, the best in the South Suburbs. It's a small, intimate thing, which in our circles means about 40 people (if I ever do have my own big fat Greek wedding, expect over 200 people. On my side. This is why I'm eloping). And then Sunday? Sunday I get back on the big avion and fly back to my real life. I'm guessing Peng will not be as late picking me up as the cabbie was dropping me off. And Maggie, I'm guessing, will still be happy to see me, even though she's spent all week with Maxine and Sparrow. And Monday's a full clinic, Tuesday I'm on call, and, away we go again.
Damn. I'd better get some rest...
Oh! But I do have a big decision to make in the next 48 hours or so - Blog 365 2008 is drawing to a close....do I sign up for Blog 365, 2009 edition? What do you think, folks?
::EDIT:: Oooh! Look! There's a poll! Go vote! (Be kind...)
Tomorrow, I'm out the door at a quarter past dark to have breakfast with one of my med school buddies. I have a few things I need to do whilst on the west side, and then have a phone appointment at 10:30, and then am heading over to the lovely Bianca's to hang out with her and my nephew, Basil (who's TWO AND A HALF OHMIFREAKINGAWD). After that, I'm going to head over to the equally lovely Robin's to score some time with her and meet my new (um, seven months ago) nephew, Luke. We're going to hang out around there for the evening, for a wonderful evening sans pantalon (NO PANTS!) (It's a long story....which I'll probably tell you tomorrow). We're doing a bring-your-favorite-takeout New Year's, which we've done before and was a raving success. I'm thinking I might order pizza, because, ohh...anyhow, Thursday I'm going to sleep in as long as little Luke will let me, and then am headed up north to hang with my college friend and her wife (take that, Prop 8 bitches) and their two adorable children. And with any luck, I might get to spend some quality time with my awesome Goddaughter on Thursday night.
I sense an impending onslaught of clock-ticking, after all of this baby/kid time in the next few days...
Fortunately, Friday I'm going in to the city for a fun-filled afternoon with Claudia, and then she and my cousins (the ones whose parents are my surrogate family in NC) and I are headed out for a night of single-gal debauchery. Even if my one cousin is married (I really like her hubby, so, I can't really hold that against her). I see fabulous martinis in our future...
Saturday is a smallish extended-family to-do at my cousin Paulie's restaurant, the best in the South Suburbs. It's a small, intimate thing, which in our circles means about 40 people (if I ever do have my own big fat Greek wedding, expect over 200 people. On my side. This is why I'm eloping). And then Sunday? Sunday I get back on the big avion and fly back to my real life. I'm guessing Peng will not be as late picking me up as the cabbie was dropping me off. And Maggie, I'm guessing, will still be happy to see me, even though she's spent all week with Maxine and Sparrow. And Monday's a full clinic, Tuesday I'm on call, and, away we go again.
Damn. I'd better get some rest...
Oh! But I do have a big decision to make in the next 48 hours or so - Blog 365 2008 is drawing to a close....do I sign up for Blog 365, 2009 edition? What do you think, folks?
::EDIT:: Oooh! Look! There's a poll! Go vote! (Be kind...)
Monday, December 29, 2008
I kind of hate to admit this, but...
It's 8:45 (Central). I've done pretty much nothing but nap all day, and eat home-cooked food, and knit about ten rows, and read four pages, and then nap some more. And y'all? I'm going to bed. My mother assures me I'm just catching up on my sleep debt from the past week/month/year and a half. I think I might've caught the narcolepsy, I hear that's been going around...hopefully, it's just the 24-hour narcolepsy...
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Home again.
I'm back in the Windy City. It's sorta chilly here, but not bad, and, at current, not even that windy.
Thus begins another whirlwind week trying to spend quality time with as many people as humanly possible. I flew in this morning....all my friends were either out of town, on call, or (ahem) ignoring their text messages, so I reserved a cab to take me to the airport this morning. The cab was insanely late, and I had to call twice. The fare was close to $50, he said, just give me $30, we made you too late. So I gave him $30 and not a penny more. Tips are for good service. He was 40 minutes late, and went the wrong way down my one way street. Here's a tip - try being on time.
The flight itself was reasonably uneventful. And then my folks picked me up and we ran home and I grabbed my dad's keys and went to knitting.
You know how, with some people, you can not see them for, say, over a year, and you sit down and it's still like you come every week? That's totally what knitting group was today. God, I miss you people!!
Val even gave me a skein of sock yarn. It was from a yarn of the month thing, and really not her color, but you know whose color it totally was? Ruthie's. And the socks I'm currently making for Ruthie are turning out to be very nice (and I love the yarn) but less Ruthie-colored than I was hoping. But I think they're looking to be someone else's color. And then the socks that I was going to make for her can go back to being for the person I was originally making them for, and then...well, then...one of these days I'm going to knit something for myself again. But anyway, I'd forgotten how much I missed seeing what everyone else was making and fondling everyone's fancy yarns and swapping project ideas. I miss these knitting buddies, but I think I also miss having knitting buddies in general.
Okay, mostly I miss these knitting buddies.
See, this is why I don't come home more often. Okay, no it isn't. I don't come home more often because I work 60 to 80 hour weeks and have no disposable income. But coming home also invariably makes me homesick.
Funny, that....
Thus begins another whirlwind week trying to spend quality time with as many people as humanly possible. I flew in this morning....all my friends were either out of town, on call, or (ahem) ignoring their text messages, so I reserved a cab to take me to the airport this morning. The cab was insanely late, and I had to call twice. The fare was close to $50, he said, just give me $30, we made you too late. So I gave him $30 and not a penny more. Tips are for good service. He was 40 minutes late, and went the wrong way down my one way street. Here's a tip - try being on time.
The flight itself was reasonably uneventful. And then my folks picked me up and we ran home and I grabbed my dad's keys and went to knitting.
You know how, with some people, you can not see them for, say, over a year, and you sit down and it's still like you come every week? That's totally what knitting group was today. God, I miss you people!!
Val even gave me a skein of sock yarn. It was from a yarn of the month thing, and really not her color, but you know whose color it totally was? Ruthie's. And the socks I'm currently making for Ruthie are turning out to be very nice (and I love the yarn) but less Ruthie-colored than I was hoping. But I think they're looking to be someone else's color. And then the socks that I was going to make for her can go back to being for the person I was originally making them for, and then...well, then...one of these days I'm going to knit something for myself again. But anyway, I'd forgotten how much I missed seeing what everyone else was making and fondling everyone's fancy yarns and swapping project ideas. I miss these knitting buddies, but I think I also miss having knitting buddies in general.
Okay, mostly I miss these knitting buddies.
See, this is why I don't come home more often. Okay, no it isn't. I don't come home more often because I work 60 to 80 hour weeks and have no disposable income. But coming home also invariably makes me homesick.
Funny, that....
Friday, December 05, 2008
Ho ho ho!!
Yay, presents!!
So, my knitters back home set up a Secret Santa gift exchange. My package arrived in Chicago today (pictures after my designee gets her gifts tomorrow). Even better, the package for me was waiting on my doorstep when I got home!!
It started with a funny card...
And there was sooooo much good stuff inside....yarn. Chocolate. Dog treats. What could be better??
There's sock yarn from Lorna's Laces that's a cheery red and white. There's hot cocoa mix (with marshmallows!!), M&Ms, a Lindt chocolate reindeer (or, at least, I swear there was one of those around here a minute ago...), and a candy shot glass (he he!). There's also a box of peanut butter Jump and Sit Bits for my girl (those are going to be such good stuffin' in the Puppy Kong!!).
This is awesome!! Thanks, Sarah!!
So, my knitters back home set up a Secret Santa gift exchange. My package arrived in Chicago today (pictures after my designee gets her gifts tomorrow). Even better, the package for me was waiting on my doorstep when I got home!!
It started with a funny card...
And there was sooooo much good stuff inside....yarn. Chocolate. Dog treats. What could be better??
There's sock yarn from Lorna's Laces that's a cheery red and white. There's hot cocoa mix (with marshmallows!!), M&Ms, a Lindt chocolate reindeer (or, at least, I swear there was one of those around here a minute ago...), and a candy shot glass (he he!). There's also a box of peanut butter Jump and Sit Bits for my girl (those are going to be such good stuffin' in the Puppy Kong!!).
This is awesome!! Thanks, Sarah!!
Saturday, November 01, 2008
Crap, how did that happen?
So I've been composing this big, long, rambling post in my head all day - in between a very busy day of grocery shopping mishaps and scaling Dish Mountain (for the first time in, like, two weeks - ew) and watching House on the DVR and burying my nose in this book, which one of my adolescents showed up with last week - but suddenly it's 7pm and Ruthie is picking me up in like a minute so we can go eat dinner and then pick Peng up at the airport (coming in from Chicago, where she's been all week at a conference, lucky bitch. Not that I'm jealous or homesick or anything), and I'm still getting myself all switched around again and I'm going to need to go to bed when I get home and now all I have in me, apparently, is a big, long, rambling sentence. With excessive use of italics.
A useful post tomorrow, I promise. With pictures! Of what, yet, I don't know, but, pictures.
Oh, hey, and happy November. As you can tell from the sparkly new badge, it's National Blog Posting Month again (NaBloPoMo, as it were). Join me, fellow bloggers!! It's only 30 days! It's not even one of those long months!
A useful post tomorrow, I promise. With pictures! Of what, yet, I don't know, but, pictures.
Oh, hey, and happy November. As you can tell from the sparkly new badge, it's National Blog Posting Month again (NaBloPoMo, as it were). Join me, fellow bloggers!! It's only 30 days! It's not even one of those long months!
Friday, October 03, 2008
Big news day
So, a couple of interesting notes in the news today.
Apparently, the Cubs...oy, the Cubs. Have they not figured out that every time the try to lift the curse, they just do worse? I guess one more try can't hurt.
Amusingly, the priest is from my old church in Valparaiso, and, was a deacon at the church where I grew up for, like, ever (Danielle - you remember him from Fanari?). Nice guy. Reportedly, back in the day, he asked this woman out, and she said no, and he told her, "Give me three dates. If you still don't want to go out with me, I won't ask again." They're married now.
Yes, our priests can get married.
Oh, and then there was this little tidbit, too. Finally. But weird that they tacked it on to the bailout.
Kind of ironic, really.
And as long as I'm posting stuff I pulled off the Trib website...
I love Dog Eat Doug. Aww.
Apparently, the Cubs...oy, the Cubs. Have they not figured out that every time the try to lift the curse, they just do worse? I guess one more try can't hurt.
Amusingly, the priest is from my old church in Valparaiso, and, was a deacon at the church where I grew up for, like, ever (Danielle - you remember him from Fanari?). Nice guy. Reportedly, back in the day, he asked this woman out, and she said no, and he told her, "Give me three dates. If you still don't want to go out with me, I won't ask again." They're married now.
Yes, our priests can get married.
Oh, and then there was this little tidbit, too. Finally. But weird that they tacked it on to the bailout.
Kind of ironic, really.
And as long as I'm posting stuff I pulled off the Trib website...
I love Dog Eat Doug. Aww.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Maggie may have to change her name to Toto...
::sigh:: I guess the drought is over....
So the remnants of TS Fay are here (you know, a week after I didn't fly to the coast because the Tropical Storm might ground us. Oh well). It's been raining like a damn monsoon (or, say, a tropical storm) off and on all day. Apparently, there were all sorts of tornadoes around the state today. Or, well, maybe. There are reports. We can't confirm anything. It's possible there were tomatoes spotted across the state today, we may not have the whole story straight.
Sometimes I really miss the Chicago Tribune.
It was sort of funny, though - I went to my psychotherapy supervision this morning, had a nice discussion of my last therapy session with my supervisor (so, I do therapy, and then I go and discuss it with a real therapist, who gives me feedback and makes suggestions and that sort of thing), stopped at the Starbucks and tried to read for this afternoon lectures, made it through part of the readings, couldn't bring myself to finish the CBT stuff, and gave up and came home for a while, because, well, Maggie isn't a big fan of storms. So we hung out, and, I'd left the TV on for her while I was gone today, right, because of all the raining and whatnot. And I'm lying on my bed reading my email and listening to the News 14 Carolina weatherman blather on and on about tornadoes and how deadly they were and that conditions were right and that the NWS was not going to hesitate to continue issuing tornado warnings pretty much on a whim and he felt the need to tell us, you know, the topography here isn't like the Midwest, tornadoes can just pop up all of a sudden... Okay, first of all, I don't know how he knew when he made that last comment that I had just moments prior looked out the window and said, "Nah, it doesn't look like it's going to tornado." But second, here's a tip, Mr. Weather Guy - they sort of just pop up in the Midwest, too. Not out of the clear blue or nothin', but, I'm just sayin'. Anyway, I had to change the channel for her before I left again to go to the hospital for lecture, because he was just way too anxious.
I used to be terrified of tornadoes when I was like, late grade school to high school. Terrified. Like, if there was a single cloud anywhere (and, let's review, I lived in Chicago) I'd get all worried that the day was going to end in disaster. But then, I had a lot of phobias that sprung out of sublimated neuroses back in those days...now, they only really bother me because of the dog. Although Maggie's outgrowing her hatred of thunderstorms, it seems, or at least she doesn't automatically pee all over everything the moment there's a distant rumble of thunder. But still, she's more tolerant of them if I'm here. And while I certainly worry about, you know, her well-being if our house were flattened by a tornado, but I just worry a lot more about her being scared.
Anyhow...one definite positive of the local newspaper's website, even if they can't tell me if there were actual twisters today, is this video. It's a political cartoon spoof of Adam Sandler's Hanukkah song, and it is not to be missed.
Although..........who else is disappointed in Obama for being a Sox fan?
So the remnants of TS Fay are here (you know, a week after I didn't fly to the coast because the Tropical Storm might ground us. Oh well). It's been raining like a damn monsoon (or, say, a tropical storm) off and on all day. Apparently, there were all sorts of tornadoes around the state today. Or, well, maybe. There are reports. We can't confirm anything. It's possible there were tomatoes spotted across the state today, we may not have the whole story straight.
Sometimes I really miss the Chicago Tribune.
It was sort of funny, though - I went to my psychotherapy supervision this morning, had a nice discussion of my last therapy session with my supervisor (so, I do therapy, and then I go and discuss it with a real therapist, who gives me feedback and makes suggestions and that sort of thing), stopped at the Starbucks and tried to read for this afternoon lectures, made it through part of the readings, couldn't bring myself to finish the CBT stuff, and gave up and came home for a while, because, well, Maggie isn't a big fan of storms. So we hung out, and, I'd left the TV on for her while I was gone today, right, because of all the raining and whatnot. And I'm lying on my bed reading my email and listening to the News 14 Carolina weatherman blather on and on about tornadoes and how deadly they were and that conditions were right and that the NWS was not going to hesitate to continue issuing tornado warnings pretty much on a whim and he felt the need to tell us, you know, the topography here isn't like the Midwest, tornadoes can just pop up all of a sudden... Okay, first of all, I don't know how he knew when he made that last comment that I had just moments prior looked out the window and said, "Nah, it doesn't look like it's going to tornado." But second, here's a tip, Mr. Weather Guy - they sort of just pop up in the Midwest, too. Not out of the clear blue or nothin', but, I'm just sayin'. Anyway, I had to change the channel for her before I left again to go to the hospital for lecture, because he was just way too anxious.
I used to be terrified of tornadoes when I was like, late grade school to high school. Terrified. Like, if there was a single cloud anywhere (and, let's review, I lived in Chicago) I'd get all worried that the day was going to end in disaster. But then, I had a lot of phobias that sprung out of sublimated neuroses back in those days...now, they only really bother me because of the dog. Although Maggie's outgrowing her hatred of thunderstorms, it seems, or at least she doesn't automatically pee all over everything the moment there's a distant rumble of thunder. But still, she's more tolerant of them if I'm here. And while I certainly worry about, you know, her well-being if our house were flattened by a tornado, but I just worry a lot more about her being scared.
Anyhow...one definite positive of the local newspaper's website, even if they can't tell me if there were actual twisters today, is this video. It's a political cartoon spoof of Adam Sandler's Hanukkah song, and it is not to be missed.
Although..........who else is disappointed in Obama for being a Sox fan?
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Joy Sunday
No, I don't plan to make it a regular feature, but I missed Love Thursday this week, and Barb started this Rush of Joy meme, so I thought that since I finally had a few moments to sit and write (not that I shouldn't be packing/going to the grocery store/writing discharge summaries/etc/etc/etc), I'd throw in my two cents.
As you all know, it's been a particularly rough patch of late. So I thought this was a good challenge to take up. I went with Barb's original number of 15 because I wasn't sure I could think of 10, so, me being me, I decided that was a reason to aim higher. Because there are a lot of sources of joy in my life. Because I can certainly stand these days to concentrate more on the positive aspects. So...
Fifteen things that bring me joy (in no particular order):
1. Maggie's ears. They're incredibly expressive, very funny, and feel like velvet. I also adore her soft little muzzle, her curious little eyebrows, and her gentle, sweet (and surprisingly slobber-free) puppy kisses. Okay, fine, so generally, my dog melts my guarded little heart.
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2. A really good, up-tempo, anthemic-y song, played loudly in my car. You know the ones. Full of energy and hope and you can't help but sing along at the top of your lungs. Or actually, even a song that may not be as adrenaline-inducing, but has really good lyrics that make me ache. And then, like, the songs of my youth (as utterly ridiculous as some of them are. I can't believe I still know all the lyrics to "Ice, Ice, Baby"). So really, lots of songs.
3. The ocean. And it sounds silly, but I'm more partial to the Atlantic than the Pacific. I love the rhythm of waves on the beach, the saline breeze, the ebb and flow of energy that comes with the tides. There's a peaceful fluidity and an expansiveness to life that you can't get anywhere else.
4. That ah-hah! moment when you finally "get it." Kind of regardless of what "it" is, whether the answer to a puzzle, the solution to a problem, or what someone is really saying to you. There's a particular rush in that moment when things click into place and suddenly make sense. You know?
5. Rain. Particularly, a good thunderstorm. I used to be terrified of thunderstorms for a while when I was an adolescent, because I lived in Chicago and thunderstorms occasionally mean tornadoes, and for a while I had this really bad phobia of the unpredictability of tornadoes. I've gotten over it, though, and a good thunderstorm is now one of my favorite things. Rain has a sort of cleansing feeling to me, and I totally love lying in bed all bundled up when there's a little chill in the air and listening to it rain. But I also love the force and tumult of a good thunderstorm. When I'm at home, they also mean that Maggie (who is still not a fan) gets extra cuddly. But, like, the last night we were at the beach for the intern retreat, and there was a tropical storm rolling in, and we sat on the deck and watched just the most impressive light show, and it was one of those storms where the thunder resonates and vibrates your very soul...it was magnificent.
6. That giddy intoxicated feeling you get when you're with good people and can be totally disinhibited and just giggle like a moron at the silliest things.
7. Getting totally engrossed in a good book, to the point that I lose all track of time or my surroundings and it's like the language of the page becomes my very way of thinking, when you're so voracious and can't hardly stand to turn the page for what happens next.
8. Birth. Wow, it's amazing. The whole process is like seeing God. But there's this particular moment when the mother's flesh yields and the baby (who's probably been on the perineum for some time, as long as everyone's tolerating it - including the doctor/midwife - just waiting, stretching, holding, almost there) slides into the world and a new life officially begins. To be witness to that is to touch a small piece of heaven, and is an incredible privilege.
9. Oh, speaking of which...my new nephew.
(Can you just smell that little baby head smell? Oh, I love that.)
And my "old" one.
And the myriad of other small people my friends have brought into the world.
10. The blatant innocence of children. You know those moments, when they're just so pure of heart. There's a reason the word is "unadulterated."
11. The heady intoxication of good yarn fumes. Wool, or alpaca in particular. Oh, man. The smell of baking bread, all warm and yeasty and comforting, is a different high than yarn fumes, but comparable.
12. Being with comfortable people. The ones you can totally be yourself with and know they'll still like you. The ones that you can just let it all hang out and let them see your really good qualities as well as the ones you're not as fond of.
13. Seeing "New Comment on your post..." in the subject line of an email. I seriously live for comments.
14. Dancing. Alone, or particularly with a group of friends at a club or a wedding or something. Where you're not trying to impress anyone, and you can just be free and open and dance like a fat white girl and it's okay.
15. The Chicago skyline at night. It's breathtaking. Why don't I have a picture of that?
All right, your turn. Click on the link above for the meme rules.
As you all know, it's been a particularly rough patch of late. So I thought this was a good challenge to take up. I went with Barb's original number of 15 because I wasn't sure I could think of 10, so, me being me, I decided that was a reason to aim higher. Because there are a lot of sources of joy in my life. Because I can certainly stand these days to concentrate more on the positive aspects. So...
Fifteen things that bring me joy (in no particular order):
1. Maggie's ears. They're incredibly expressive, very funny, and feel like velvet. I also adore her soft little muzzle, her curious little eyebrows, and her gentle, sweet (and surprisingly slobber-free) puppy kisses. Okay, fine, so generally, my dog melts my guarded little heart.
2. A really good, up-tempo, anthemic-y song, played loudly in my car. You know the ones. Full of energy and hope and you can't help but sing along at the top of your lungs. Or actually, even a song that may not be as adrenaline-inducing, but has really good lyrics that make me ache. And then, like, the songs of my youth (as utterly ridiculous as some of them are. I can't believe I still know all the lyrics to "Ice, Ice, Baby"). So really, lots of songs.
3. The ocean. And it sounds silly, but I'm more partial to the Atlantic than the Pacific. I love the rhythm of waves on the beach, the saline breeze, the ebb and flow of energy that comes with the tides. There's a peaceful fluidity and an expansiveness to life that you can't get anywhere else.
4. That ah-hah! moment when you finally "get it." Kind of regardless of what "it" is, whether the answer to a puzzle, the solution to a problem, or what someone is really saying to you. There's a particular rush in that moment when things click into place and suddenly make sense. You know?
5. Rain. Particularly, a good thunderstorm. I used to be terrified of thunderstorms for a while when I was an adolescent, because I lived in Chicago and thunderstorms occasionally mean tornadoes, and for a while I had this really bad phobia of the unpredictability of tornadoes. I've gotten over it, though, and a good thunderstorm is now one of my favorite things. Rain has a sort of cleansing feeling to me, and I totally love lying in bed all bundled up when there's a little chill in the air and listening to it rain. But I also love the force and tumult of a good thunderstorm. When I'm at home, they also mean that Maggie (who is still not a fan) gets extra cuddly. But, like, the last night we were at the beach for the intern retreat, and there was a tropical storm rolling in, and we sat on the deck and watched just the most impressive light show, and it was one of those storms where the thunder resonates and vibrates your very soul...it was magnificent.
6. That giddy intoxicated feeling you get when you're with good people and can be totally disinhibited and just giggle like a moron at the silliest things.
7. Getting totally engrossed in a good book, to the point that I lose all track of time or my surroundings and it's like the language of the page becomes my very way of thinking, when you're so voracious and can't hardly stand to turn the page for what happens next.
8. Birth. Wow, it's amazing. The whole process is like seeing God. But there's this particular moment when the mother's flesh yields and the baby (who's probably been on the perineum for some time, as long as everyone's tolerating it - including the doctor/midwife - just waiting, stretching, holding, almost there) slides into the world and a new life officially begins. To be witness to that is to touch a small piece of heaven, and is an incredible privilege.
9. Oh, speaking of which...my new nephew.
(Can you just smell that little baby head smell? Oh, I love that.)
And my "old" one.
And the myriad of other small people my friends have brought into the world.
10. The blatant innocence of children. You know those moments, when they're just so pure of heart. There's a reason the word is "unadulterated."
11. The heady intoxication of good yarn fumes. Wool, or alpaca in particular. Oh, man. The smell of baking bread, all warm and yeasty and comforting, is a different high than yarn fumes, but comparable.
12. Being with comfortable people. The ones you can totally be yourself with and know they'll still like you. The ones that you can just let it all hang out and let them see your really good qualities as well as the ones you're not as fond of.
13. Seeing "New Comment on your post..." in the subject line of an email. I seriously live for comments.
14. Dancing. Alone, or particularly with a group of friends at a club or a wedding or something. Where you're not trying to impress anyone, and you can just be free and open and dance like a fat white girl and it's okay.
15. The Chicago skyline at night. It's breathtaking. Why don't I have a picture of that?
All right, your turn. Click on the link above for the meme rules.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
More nostalgia
Three years ago today, I was on a plane to Chicago. My aunt, my uncle, my cousin came over for dinner. I remember feeling so wiped out, and, like, not even there. I felt grey. Colorless. Numb. I pulled out the two variations on black that I'd brought for the conference and picked one. And then I lay in my bed and stared at the ceiling fan and wished I could feel something other than blackness.
Three years ago today, I still wasn't thinking of leaving my program.
Today, I woke up at half past dark and pulled on my work clothes (still, variations on black, I admit) and went to a meeting about crazy pregnant lady with the OB/G department. I discovered that I was "famous" over there as the psych resident who can check a cervix. They love me. They? Seem to think I know OB. I find this really ironic. And they gave me a cookie for coming in at quarter to early on my vacation.
I'm a sucker for a cookie and some validation.
So then I went and checked in on the unit. Talked to one of my patients, who was like "You've been gone one day and they already changed my medication for no good reason and they're screwing it up." Then I did some paperwork, and then I had my annual review with my program director.
They like me. They really like me.
It was nice. I mean, I kinda knew that, since my attending gave me a review last week and said things like "I really think you were born to do this." But it was really nice to hear. And she asked if this experience was different from the last one. She says, "I hope it's like night and day." I laughed.
It's like night and penguins.
So then I spent a while on a conference call with crazy pregnant lady's guardian and her boss. Then I went to the noon lecture/conference/support group/free lunch thingie. Then I'm finally walking out of the hospital, and the woman whose house I'm trying to rent in June calls me. So I pop on over, chat with her, meet the dog, discuss the specifics. Somewhere in there my crazy friend Rachel calls me, and she's sick, and could I pick up her antibiotics? Of course I can. And then I had to get her car out of the muddy ditch at the end of her driveway, because I'm from Chicago, and we know how to do those things.
Then I came home and decided to brush out the dog for like a half hour. Which took almost two hours, because the little girls across the way decided they wanted to help. Still got a lot of fur off, though, eventually. And then I came in, changed out of the clothes covered in dog hair, and took leftover chili over to my aunt's. We ate chili. we watched a really sweet movie (The Jane Austen Book Club. I could've sworn I'd read the book, but, maybe I never got around to it. I know I own it, because my friend Sue gave it to me). I was instantly in love with the adorable male lead. So adorable.
It was a nice day.
Three years ago today, I still wasn't thinking of leaving my program.
Today, I woke up at half past dark and pulled on my work clothes (still, variations on black, I admit) and went to a meeting about crazy pregnant lady with the OB/G department. I discovered that I was "famous" over there as the psych resident who can check a cervix. They love me. They? Seem to think I know OB. I find this really ironic. And they gave me a cookie for coming in at quarter to early on my vacation.
I'm a sucker for a cookie and some validation.
So then I went and checked in on the unit. Talked to one of my patients, who was like "You've been gone one day and they already changed my medication for no good reason and they're screwing it up." Then I did some paperwork, and then I had my annual review with my program director.
They like me. They really like me.
It was nice. I mean, I kinda knew that, since my attending gave me a review last week and said things like "I really think you were born to do this." But it was really nice to hear. And she asked if this experience was different from the last one. She says, "I hope it's like night and day." I laughed.
It's like night and penguins.
So then I spent a while on a conference call with crazy pregnant lady's guardian and her boss. Then I went to the noon lecture/conference/support group/free lunch thingie. Then I'm finally walking out of the hospital, and the woman whose house I'm trying to rent in June calls me. So I pop on over, chat with her, meet the dog, discuss the specifics. Somewhere in there my crazy friend Rachel calls me, and she's sick, and could I pick up her antibiotics? Of course I can. And then I had to get her car out of the muddy ditch at the end of her driveway, because I'm from Chicago, and we know how to do those things.
Then I came home and decided to brush out the dog for like a half hour. Which took almost two hours, because the little girls across the way decided they wanted to help. Still got a lot of fur off, though, eventually. And then I came in, changed out of the clothes covered in dog hair, and took leftover chili over to my aunt's. We ate chili. we watched a really sweet movie (The Jane Austen Book Club. I could've sworn I'd read the book, but, maybe I never got around to it. I know I own it, because my friend Sue gave it to me). I was instantly in love with the adorable male lead. So adorable.
It was a nice day.
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