Hot in Durham

It's hot in my house.

84 degrees, to be precise. Our air conditioner must've gone out today.

Bleh. Hopefully they'll fix it tomorrow. I called and left a "we're so hot!" voicemail on the maintenance line.

Bleh.

In less "bleh" news, I had a great weekend. My uncle and my cousin came in for graduation. Graduation itself was a pretty fun thing. Long, but fun. One of these days I'll write an actual post about the graduation ceremony, but I'm hot and I want to go to bed.

My uncle left Saturday and was definitely not here long enough. It was really good to see him - it's been over a year. I think he was a little anxious about seeing my mom sick, but I think he was pleased with her progress and all and all it was a very positive visit. My cousin stuck around until today. We had a great Sunday - breakfast out, coffee with the Villagers (including Misty's new puppy, who is so cute it might overload your brain), a jaunt around Raleigh, a visit to the State Hospital campus, a trip to the Harley Davidson store, and a stroll around the State Farmer's Market. We hung out with my parents a bit, and then had dinner at a place I'd not tried before, but with which I was really pretty impressed. She came to coffee again this morning to meet the AM crew. It was great to see her. She's been such a huge support for me.

Today was super productive. I got a lot done at work, including 53 minutes of actual psychiatry. But I also replaced my ID badge, did all my little hospital educational crap, got my motorcycle parking pass, re-joined the APA (my membership lapsed), filled out two separate applications for moonlighting, ate a little lunch, did a little therapy....

Not bad for a Monday.

Here's hoping I don't melt before Tuesday....

Yiayia on relationships

Athenos has this new advert series about the stereotypical, old country Greek grandmother. It's really, really stereotypical....but also funny as hell.



Click through and watch them all (there's only three). Hilarious, especially if you have a little judgmental yiayia from the old country (which I do not, but I've known many).

It does make me miss my yiayia a little bit. She was nothing like this...which is probably why I miss her so much...

Happy Mother's Day

So it's Mother's Day.

This is a day my own mother has traditionally hated. I'm not sure I've ever figured out quite why, exactly, she dislikes it so much - I get explanations ranging from "it's a stupid Hallmark holiday" to it making her miss her own mother too much. But, since this year I'm grateful that my mother is even alive after this whole fiasco, so we celebrated it by spending most of the day together.

It's been a rough weekend. My dad's hopefully getting out of the hospital tomorrow. But the weekend (or, you know, past two months) has been kind of crazy, so I took a couple of hours this morning and went to Starbucks. I got caught up on my discharge summaries (let's not talk about my clinic notes) just in time to go back on service tomorrow, and met Matt for coffee and good conversation. I felt a little better after that. My mom and I went to the Mothers' Day brunch here at Shady Pines, which was absolutely delicious. My mom doesn't talk much during meals these days, so it was a lot of chewing in silence, but it was still nice to be in the thick of things. We then got in the car (which she's getting better at) and drove around looking at houses in the neighborhood, and found a lot lot lot of great options for me to talk about with the realtor. We came home, I fell asleep for a minute and then went back out to Target, came home, made dinner, installed the transfer bench in the shower, and then my mom and I watched Betty White on last night's SNL (my mom's commentary? "That was weird." I, however, loved it). And then we got my mom showered, which was a 45 minute ordeal. And sent me off on a whole new spiral succumbing to the gravity of this whole situation.

Matt and I talked a little this morning about the cultural differences between his WASPy self and my Greekness. He was like, "I'd probably be more hands-off about the whole thing, but my parents are also younger and I have a high-functioning sister." Right, I said, and you're a son. I'm an only child, and a daughter, and in my culture, that means something entirely different. And sometimes that difference is wonderful, meaningful, amazing. Sometimes that something is a jagged little pill.

There have been other aspects of this weekend weighing heavily on me, but that's another post for another day. Meanwhile, I have a 7am therapy patient tomorrow. I'd better get to sleep...

Tales and Tails

So here's an interesting tidbit - this is my 990th published post on this blog. Blogger keeps track of all of these things, of course, but it turns out that I have 11 unpublished posts floating around, so it was like, hey, you've written 1000 posts! But, in fact, that particular milestone is another ten posts away.

I started reading through the things I didn't publish. A few were empty posts or earlier versions of things I ultimately did post, so those got deleted. A couple were rants I just never finished, snippets of interestingness, or stuff I meant to come back and address later. I think I should revisit a couple of those...

So I'm home, I think I mentioned. All is fairly well. My mom seems to be doing somewhat better. My dad is his usual self, if perhaps a bit more short of breath. I'm so glad I live in a time where I could just hop on a plane and be up here in a couple of hours; I think coming up was the right choice. Since the cat appears to already be out of the bag (mostly thanks to the Greek Aunties News Network), my mom seems to have had a small stroke last week. She's got a little facial droop on the right, but not any huge deficits. However, because her knees already suck (this is the curse of my family. Both sides. I should just get mine replaced now...) that mild bit of weakness on the right side is making walking a lot more difficult. So, we'll see. She seems to be doing better today, as I said. She's getting physical therapy, and had an MRI of her cabeza last night, the results of which we should get Monday or early next week. So we'll see. I'm trying not to let my doctor-y-ness make me too crazy with thinking about what else could be going on. She (who is never sick) is being a trooper. My dad (who is always sick) is hanging in there, too.

I've been trying unsuccessfully to take a nap all day. I think I'm going to give up and go to bed.

Oh! But first - check this out. It's a little blurb in Scientific American on doggie genetics and people genetics and what that implies for each. I always knew Mags and I were related.....

All in the family.

Click here.

Drag the little thing on the bottom to the 32 minute mark (right after the 4th commercial break).

Watch. Laugh. Enjoy.

So this guy is my cousins' cousin. By marriage. Which, by the rules of Greek (and Italian, and particularly combined Greek-Italian) families? Makes him ours.

I like to think he got his funny genes from me.

Whipped

Seriously. What the hell?

So, I think I mentioned the other day that while I was home, my Greek aunts convinced me I needed to put a profile on this Greek dating site, right?

I don't think I'm cut out for this shit.

So, I admit, it's only been a week, but I've had two separate guys IM me and ask me to dominate them. I cannot figure this out.

The first one was, I'm guessing, classic reaction formation. His tagline was like, "If you voted for Obama, we're not compatible." On his profile, he was all bluster and rant about how Greeks were the best, Orthodoxy was the only religion, women were all "hippie sandal-wearing liberals." I didn't see his profile until after he'd messaged me asking me if I was "dominant." I was like, really dude? He sends me his phone number and was like, call me. No really, call me. I said, no. He's like, really, really. I want you to call. And I asked him, what makes you think I'm a dom? He says, "I can just tell."

Okayyyy.....that was the end of that.

The second guy started with "are you a psychiatrist?" and then proceeded to tell me he was recently suicidal. And couldn't afford a therapist, so maybe I could help? Mmm, no, sorry. Well, okay, that's cool. Blah blah blah (I don't know why I didn't just end the conversation right exactly then), and then he starts telling me it's love at first sight. I said, no, no it's not. We've been talking for three minutes. And he says he's looking to get married. And I was like, dude, calm down, you seem like a nice enough guy but you come on way too strong. He says, why? I really like you. I said, no you don't, you don't even know me.

And then he says...."I'm looking for a dominatrix. Can I serve you?"

I said, "No."

He says, "No, I mean after we're married."

...?

I was like, are you kidding?! No, no he was not.

And I finally was like, okay, dude, what in the world would make you think that? He says, your picture.

The picture I have posted? Is the same one I used for my residency interviews. No, it does not scream "dominatrix!"

So I told him I had to go, and wished him well, and closed the messenger. And he kept trying to initiate a chat, and I kept saying no. And he finally went away.

Seriously, y'all. Is this what's out there?

So many of my friends have met their spouses on online dating sites. I? Have met more losers with dead end jobs and fat girl fetishes than I care to count. The Greek site, Match.com...I met one guy who I was friendly with for a while, but he lived on the other coast, and turned out to have some issues that were just incompatible with mine. And when I was in NH? I was on both Match and eHarmony, because if nothing else, I was hoping to meet some people in the area, do some social branching out, etc. That was terrifying. There was a cafeteria worker in a sweater vest pestering me from VT for a while.

Maybe I should've become a nun...

Answers

So, in answer to the quiz posted yesterday....

1. My very first car was a red, three door hatchback Geo Metro. I got it when I was 16, and we traded my grandmother's Buick for two identical red, three door hatchback Geo Metros, except my dad's was a stick. Mine lasted about 60K miles; his lasted until I left for residency the first time (ten years, roughly) and might still be going if he hadn't sold it. I have owned all the other cars listed, though. I traded the Geo in for a black Jeep Grand Cherokee, which I traded for an olive green Pontiac Aztec when it started whispering about transmission problems. The Jeep had two broken bumpers and a ketchup stain I couldn't get off the back seat from one of my friends during our road trip to South Carolina first year of medical school. The Asscrack, as Brett has been known to call it, was a really awful shade of green, so they gave me a $200 discount ("the Ugly Car Discount") to get it painted (I also got a really good deal in general, but, alas, it never quite was the Jeep...). So it turned blue one day, but the interior frames of the doors were still green. It was funny. I rolled the Asscrack off the road in New Hampshire, minutes (okay, a week?) after I'd bought the current Silver Jeep ("There's no way in hell I'm moving to the Northeast without four-wheel-drive." I think that was said the day I matched at the Emerald Palace) and my dad took possession (and title, and insurance) of the Aztek. The end result of that whole deal was that I got a mild concussion and a bruise on my scapula, and he got a new Subaru, which he totalled not too long after I moved back home...

2. I was a lunatic, and did three majors in four years - Biology, Chemistry, and Humanities. The Humanities major kept me sane and got me out of the science building once in a while...

3. It's very pink in our office, which we blame on Ruthie. I concede that I have contributed to the pink a little, where as Peng holds steadfastly to her black and purple motif. Mostly it's the big pink chair in our office....

4. I do not like meat on a pizza. I'm not such a big fan of meat in general. Plain old cheese is just fine, veggie is usually also doable, but when given my choice, I'll pick broccoli, green pepper, and feta every time. Much like I did last night when Peng and I went for Chicago Style deep dish after the wine tasting. It was gooooood....

5. I didn't realize until later that this was some tricky wording. My ink is on my low back, which, technically is still my back. But my friends informed me a couple of years ago when I was home that a tattoo in this location is now called a "tramp stamp." Which cracks. me. up.

6. I have never been a gym teacher. Between doctoring stints, I worked in a yarn shop, sold yarn, and taught knitting. It was not lucrative (I was paid in yarn. No, really), but it was a good time, I learned some valuable business skills, and met some really awesome people. Because of whom, I started this blog. So, blame the yarn shop.

7. I do love ice cream. I'll go for months without eating it, because it just doesn't occur to me, and then be like, oh! Wait! Ice cream! My very favorite is Ben and Jerry's Half Baked, which is a mixture of chocolate brownie and chocolate chip cookie dough. B&J's makes the very best cookie dough, ever. Also good in a pinch are Cherry Garcia frozen yogurt and Breyer's mint chocolate chip. I don't know that I've ever eaten Dressler's, but I think it's what Edy's calls itself in some parts of the country.

8. Much to the dismay of my early education teachers, I wanted to be a paleontologist. Which is a person who studies dinosaurs, of course. But it's hard to spell when you're doing the "All About Me" poster for Kate day in Kindergarten...

9. Maggie was originally named Sweet Pea when she lived at the shelter. We were having none of that, so she was "dog" for about three days until she named herself Margaret. No, really. I was sitting in the backyard with her and my roommate's dog, and I looked at her all of a sudden and went, "You're a Margaret, aren't you?" And she licked my face, and so it was.

10. Did the song lyrics contest teach you nothing? (And yes, yes, I know I still owe two of you yarn and one of you a felted bag. Deal with it, it's coming.)

So there you go.

Today was good. I went to the branch of my gym that's by my new/old apartment. It was decent...not a whole lot different from my current place when you get right down to it. Except the people are different, and that's what I like most about my gym. OH!! And the showers are co-ed. I was like, what, now? Are you kidding me???! I think they're intended to mostly be showers for coming in and out of the pool, but, whoa.

Anyhow.

So then I went back over to the complex and signed my lease. We're moving in like two weeks, assuming I can find movers. Yikes!! Fortunately, my parents very graciously offered to come pack me up next week (since I'm doing all that pesky working and whatnot, and spent so much time finding a place this week that I haven't yet gotten a box packed...). And when I was looking around this morning, I realized, I never really unpacked all that much. So, it may not really take that long....

But it's official. We're going back from whence we came. Only down the street a little. And this townhouse is a mirror image of the one we lived in last year. That's going to be weird for a minute.

Peng and I journeyed over to the local Greek Festival this afternoon, put on by one of the local Greek churches. It was reasonable. Not quite like the ones that populate the Chicagoland area, sadly (there were no thiples. And they drizzled honey sauce over the loukoumathes. How you gonna do us like that?). But it was enough to make me a little homesick... Oh, and I bought copies of their "award winning" cookbook for myself, my mom, and my nouna (Godmother). The woman who was checking us out was like, oh, I'm the co-editor, would you like me to sign them? I was like, uh, sure. So she inscribed every one of them. It was cute. And then gave me her home phone number in case I had trouble with any of the recipes. Which was adorable.

Alright, I'd better go get something done....

Everything Comes From the Greeks

This is cute. It isn't embed-able, so you'll have to click here to watch it.

(And for those who missed it, it's not actually Greek dancing, it's a play on Lord of the Dance.)

Greeks. We're funny people.

Enough languages to make your head explode

I'm tired, y'all. It's been a typically looooooooooong Tuesday. So, I thought, what can I post that's both educational and entertaining, just strange enough to be humorous, and (let's face it) requires minimal cognitive function on the part of the blogger?

Fortunately, YouTube never disappoints.



It's a little tutorial on Greek dancing. Um....by Germans. I found it linked to something my uncle sent me, which was a video of Greek opera in Italy. No, for real. It's nice, although there are several variations on the kalamatianos (they kept coming back to that, for some reason), which, I don't remember that much spinning. And I can't figure out why they all look like waiters. But, whatever. Enjoy.

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.

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.

More disbelief

Dude. Cubs win. And are now the NL Central Division champs.

I know, right?

It's not the World Series, but, it's a start.

(For you out-of-towners who don't get the goat reference, click here. It's a good lesson in why you shouldn't mess with my people.)