Wait, You're HOW CHEAP?!

Sooooo, it doesn't take a genius to know that living in your parent's basement, spending all your time at school or a free clinic (as a volunteer- get your mind out of the gutter!), and working at a non-profit that doesn't even have money to pay you (seriously, still holding my paychecks- that's right people, that's plural) doesn't bode well for my, ahem...we'll call it my "personal" life. The point of my mentioning of this is to highlight the fact that I would probably sleep with the cute (but really dumb) baristo boy at the cafe I go to every morning if he gave me a wink and an extra shot of vanilla in my hot cocoa at no extra charge.

Why is this important you ask? Well, just keep this in mind as you read this little story.

Anyhoo, back to my grand adventure. While out at a local coffee shop last week, a good looking guy asked me out and I figured what the hell, at the very least I could count it as my new thing for the week. Knowing that I was attracted to him, I figured he was the broke artist type (since I am apparently attracted to nothing else) and suggested coffee as our first outing. I always try to be considerate of the fact that I am attracted to broke individuals and therefore choose a cheap date...well apparently, I was with the cheapest-skate of them all!

Upon ordering my $1.69 12oz hot cocoa (I kid you not, I even ordered the smallest size there!) he informed the barista that our orders would be separate! Oh my freaking god! Are you kidding me?! Did you seriously just ask me out then have me pay for my $1.69 hot cocoa?! I entertained the thought of slugging him in the head with my rather heavy mug but thought better of it...I like that coffee house and I would be sad if they asked me not to come back because I had accosted a customer, even if he was a cheapskate. Turning to pay for the extravagant $1.69 and I could see the barista was just as outraged and disgusted as I was, which made me feel better.

I decided to give him the benefit of a doubt- maybe he had just lost everything in a house fire (see people, this is the thought process that gets me in trouble every-freaking-time!)- and sat with him for about 15 minutes. The entire time I didn't utter a word, not even a grunt of approval or a mutterance (yes, I made up a word) of interest. Nothing. But Mr. Cheap-o didn't seem to notice, he chatted on about how he worked at the local computer company (it is a HUGE, widely distributed/used corporation...i.e. there was no reason for him to be Mr. Cheap-o) and as far as I could tell, he was completely self absorbed. 15 minutes was all I could take until I finally excused myself and took my $1.69 hot cocoa back to the car.

This experience has taught me one thing- I am over dating poor starving artists (I don't care if they can change a tire or not, they probably don't have the gas money or car to drive to where I am stranded anyway- true story by the way...). It's not like I am looking to get married anyway so why not have a casual relationship with one of these rich guys I am being set up with? Hell, at least he will pay for the $1.69 hot cocoa...Then again, on second thought, who the hell am I trying to kid? The first time some broke construction worker crosses my path this smart plan will go right out the window and I will be back to my old ways *cue devilish smile*.

Kale, Chia Seeds, And Regurgitation

My 26th birthday is just around the corner and as I begin the all-to-short journey out of my mid-twenties I am determined to have time back on my side. I am too young for these light wrinkles in the corner of my eyes and too old for the zit I am currently sporting on my chin...thanks Mother Nature, as if my life wasn't already a living hell every 28 days, you must always have my skin regress to middle school too...

So in this effort to stop the clock, or at least slow the bastard down, I have decided to test drive being healthier. Don't get me wrong, I have never really been unhealthy, I exercise, I eat my fruits and veggies (though admittedly more fruits than veggies), and I drink my recommended amount of water (and fortuitously dislike soda). And thanks to good genes, my weight is on the low end for my height- thank you Nana!!! and But I will admit right off the bat that I love carbs and sugar. If a piece of bread or a sweet is within 40 miles of me, I will sniff it out and partake. Yum yum. Why is it all the yummy stuff is bad for you?

Starting today (I was going to start yesterday but I found a stash of holiday M&M's which, um, *cough, cough* magically disappeared) I will be cutting drastically back on my carb and processed sugar intake and increasing my supplements with things such as Chia (pronounced Chee-ah, like the clay pot with plants for hair, not the same thing but the same sounding name) and gelatinized Maca powder. Yum, who needs a chocolate chip cookie when you have gelatinized powder of some root cultivated in the Peruvian mountains?

So today, I got up bright and early (or at 8:45am, but who is keeping track? BTW- I love being out of school and being able to sleep in, it is soooo nice!) and trekked to the store to buy a blender. Yes folks, I didn't even have a blender to start this whole health craze off. After returning home, and proudly setting up my blender, I proceed to make a health drink recipe that was recommended to me ("It is so good you are going to love it!" they had said...Never trust a raw-diet/vegan for a good recipe, their idea of tasty is VERY different from the general population). I stuffed in kale, beets (with tops), lemon, cucumber, and a few ice cubes and blended that garden medley right up.

Not surprisingly, it smelled like, well, a garden. I took a taste test and fought back against the pronounced lump in my throat. Seeing how my goal was not to develop a bile inducing regimen, I added some apple, then some kiwi, then some orange juice, I even considered honey! But to no avail. No matter what I did to this drink it remained as crap-tastic as ever! Not to mention the beets turned your hands, tongue, and teeth bright red! I eventually gave up and opted for organic oatmeal without sugar and am now eating fresh green beans as I write this.

I may have lost the battle, but I am winning this war, gosh dang-it! I just need to find a recipe that masks that god awful- ahem, I mean, potent taste of kale and raw beets. If any of you have any recipes that are half way decent (by normal people standards) and doesn't included processed sugar, please, share with the class! :-)

Demon Photos and Tall Orthos

So, I have been shadowing an orthopedic surgeon for the last two weeks and have loved every ganglion cyst filled moment of it. As a pre med I can't be in the OR but I can see outpatient procedures such as Hyaluronan Injections (basically a lube job for arthritic knees). I have been so busy being the over-excited (but totally collected) pre med that it wasn't until the other day when I was standing at the nurses station, shadowing the surgeon as always, that I noticed no physician in that department was under 6 feet tall...and that is being conservative, they were more like 6'3. I have never felt so short at 5'7. I wonder if ortho's have some height requirement I am not aware of... Maybe to get to the job interview they make you climb steps built for a giant and that is part of the selection process...

In other news, my matchmaker sent another client's profile for me to consider... the only problem is, well, his photo. I am sure you are thinking, RP, why are you being so mean, people can't help what they look like. Well, it wasn't so much him as his actual photo. He has straight up demon eyes (red eye gone crazy) in the photo (if I could figure out a way to keep his privacy and post this photo I would, it is truly scary). And it made me wonder, of all the photos this guy probably has of himself, why the hell did he choose demon eyes? Was that really the photo he felt showed who he is? If so, that is a bit...um...scary. I haven't responded back, I am trying to think of a nice way to ask the matchmaker if there are any non-demon photos of him lying around that I can look at... Any ideas on how to say that in a PC way?

Pause For Contemplation

I am currently sitting in a hospital waiting room, listening to the low hum of the tv in the background and the hospital busy bodies floating around outside the open doorway, as is common for this breed of room. At the moment, I sit alone as the darkness blankets the sky outside and the hospital instinctively quiets down with the arrival of the evening. A few moments ago this waiting room was bustling with a large family waiting for news on how their mom did during surgery. They were like any family, they laughed and teased each other, made a coffee call each time one of them left the room, their close ties evident in every gesture. But as soon as the surgeon entered the room, a silence so deafening fell over them it almost hurt my ears. In that one moment, that microsecond between their silence and the surgeons first words, the tension was palpable. The humor fell away and all that was left was the silent desperate plea to fate that their loved one pulled through.

I do not know what the surgeon had to tell them (I am assuming it was ok since their tension melted quite a bit as they left the waiting room) but I knew in that moment, this is what medicine is about. Whether you are a surgeon or primary care physician, you are caring for somebody who means the world to another person. You are being trusted with someone's most valued gift, their body. Their livelihood. You are working not just to give them the best life possible but to give their loved ones the time they crave. Time to make memories and right wrongs. Time to live. Some days this isn't what happens, some days fate has other ideas and all we can do watch as she sweeps into our lives without warning and leaves us confused, and at times broken. But then there are the days that allow you to be the relief, the light at the end of the tunnel that gives them permission to breathe again.

The family I mentioned before seemed ok with what the surgeon said but once he left there were many tears as the wave of relief crashed against the tension they had been holding at bay. Their happiness was no longer balancing precariously in the realm of the unknown, they had firm footing once more. I have been there. I have been the one waiting, holding my breath, seeking sure footing. And I know the relief that comes with the knowledge that you can breath easily once more. I look forward to the time when I can offer that sure footing and reassurance to others. What an amazing experience to be able to serve others in this way, even if sometimes that isn't always how it works out.

The Sparkling, Blood Abstaining Irritation That Is Invading My Life

So as I sit here at nearly midnight working on yet more physics (just kill me now) I have various music floating in the background (yay pandora and youtube!). One of the songs I fell upon (and liked) was "Closer" by Kings of Leon, I love that band, which led to a flood of Twilight based fan videos (this saga has ruined several things for me, not the least of which is violent vampire stories...sparkling vamps, seriously? See, this is what happens when Anne Rice becomes a fanatical christian). Now, don't get me wrong, I love a good romance just as much as the next girl (though Edward is a bit of a pansy for my taste- give me a guy with a few scars for various fights, a checkered past, and a tendency to give in to his animalistic side...then again, I have detailed my demented attractions to men here. But I digress...), but these stories are just...ridiculous.

If I met a man who began telling me where I could or couldn't go, who I could and could not see, what I should do with my life, etc. you better believe his ass would be booted to the curb quicker than...well, I don't know what, but it would be really quick, let me assure you. Like I said before, I don't prefer pansies, I dish out a lot of shit (yes, I am a real gem) and any guy who doesn't stand up to me gets bulldozed over very quickly. But seriously, I am living my life, I have plans I am working toward (med school, etc.). What kind of dude just shows up and is like, "hey, I know you got your thing going on but I am super awesome (and sparkly too!), so why don't you just drop everything and become the perfect [read nausea inducing- seriously, do they need to embrace each time one of them leaves to go to the restroom or makes a sandwich in the next room?] couple. Oh yeah, and by the way, I will make decisions that I deem to be best for you without consulting you and then act on these decisions, again without consulting you."

I have nothing against women who are or want to be stay at home mothers/wives, that can be the toughest job out there and I give them props for it, they are stronger and more capable than I. But to feed our youth the idea that young women need to wait around for the guy to come before their life can really start is not only archaic but also unhealthy, for the individual and any relationships they might have in the future. Could you imagine being the dude who ends up with the woman who has no life outside of him? Eeeek! That might work for a vampire who has no job and all the time in the world to ponder the amazingness of their lover's eyelashes as they sleep, but for the average Joe who has other shit they need to take care of, that seems like it would be a pain in the neck. Worse yet, it tells women that any plans they had pre-guy weren't really all that valid or important and therefore can be discarded without a care.

I am sure my upbringing in a female dominated family effects my perceptions. As well as the fact that I have had my fair share of all-consuming relationships in the past (I am a sucker for a troubled bad boy who sucks you in and pulls you down with him), so I will not pretend to be unbiased. But why oh why can't we create stories for youth that show a push and pull between the sexes? A story that revels in that wonderful contrast (and value) between men and women and displays collaboration versus submission. I wonder if the popularity of this type of story becomes increasingly attractive to women as the economy becomes increasingly unstable/difficult... it would make sense, why try to conquer your problems yourself when you can just wait for a guy to do it?

Besides, as far as I am concerned, what is the fun in rolling over? If a guy (or anyone for that matter) wants to win a battle of the wills with me they'll have to work for it. Scratch that, they will have to work extremely hard for it. Nothing worth having is ever had through default or automatic submission. :-P

Update: Because I enjoy being thorough, here is an article in PsychologyToday.com by Regina Berreca that had me cracking up in the middle of the chem building lobby as I waited for my class to start.

Of Love And Lasers

Ok boys, here is your warning upfront: if you don't want to read a post on the grooming habits of women, skip this post.

So for my new thing this week I got my first treatment of laser hair removal. I am pale with dark brown hair, meaning that even when I shave my legs, the hair below the skin is still visible. Oh the joys. On top of that, I have sensitive skin...can you say razor burned underarms in the summer? Yeah, not fun at all. So with the recession and crappy economic state of..well, just about everyone, it appears that cosmetic procedures, such as laser hair removal, are being hit pretty hard. In response, they are offering deals that are nearly impossible for me to pass up.

Anyhoo, back to the story at hand...

So I scheduled my appointment in the evening and was promptly greeted that night by my very nice nurse who would be wielding the laser for the next year (6 treatments 6 weeks apart, it isn't a quick process). She was knowledgeable and efficient, two very good things when someone is zapping your hair in some pretty sensitive areas. Speaking of which, I can now safely say, that a petite 5'4 nurse, we'll call her A, knows my lady bits better than me, my gynecologist, and my past lovers. Under her scrutinizing gaze and the unforgiving bright lights of the procedure room, nothing was left to the imagination. Ah, the joys of being a woman...

As for how it felt... overall, it wasn't very painful. But I will tell you this, it is nothing like getting waxed. I have been a dedicated waxee for years and while that pain is startling, it is very quick. Over before you really start if you have a good esthetician. The feeling of a laser is completely different. It feels as though many of your hairs are being repeatedly tweezed out of your body simultaneously. Over time that can feel a bit agitating. And this is one of the "pain-free" lasers. But it is worth it. So worth it. Come summer, I will be one stubble/razor burn-free lady strutting her stuff...in long capris and flowy long sleeved blouses because I will still be pale and burn like a crisp in the sun. But I will know I am hair free under all those layers, even if no one else in the outside world can tell! Hahahahaha!

Tiring of Tactfulness

I spend 99.9999999% of my days being tactful- determining the best way to word things to a frustrating colleague, watching my words as I explain a situation so there is no misunderstandings, gauging my dealings with strangers to determine just the right level of involvement and interest I should display or hold back to ensure there is no mistaking my interaction as anything but polite and brief.

Perhaps it is my 3 hours of sleep I have received in the last several nights, maybe it is the power struggle occurring at my work as everyone seeks to wrestle the power of executive director (which we are currently lacking) into their corner, or perhaps it is the endless hours I have spent studying physics with no noticeable improvement in my performance, but whatever the reason...I am getting sick of being constantly tactful. Always aware of how others will likely perceive me in any interaction. Don't get me wrong, being tactful fits perfectly into my control freak nature, I am intentionally and actively manipulating my interactions with people to get a desire outcome (admit it, you do to. Everyone does to some extent, it is part of survival). Today has just begun and I find myself resisting the urge to respond to several situations with a bluntness that would border on rude.

What freedom that would be. To respond with no investment in controlling the outcome. The fantasy of it titillates my thoughts but each time I come close, I pull back, unwilling to relinquish that control. I do not yearn to to become a rude, abrasive individual in all my interactions, I simply yearn for one moment, one instant in which I do not care. I am not there yet, but give me a few more sleepless nights and stressful mornings to match and I might reach that point quicker than expected.