At least once a year I seem to post about this same topic. The day Darshan and Clement stole a part of my childhood away. It was a snowy day in middle school. I believe it may have been a snow day even. While I was in the solitude of my home, two of my so called pals were frolicing in the snow, sledding down the “Great Hill of Gahanna”. Despite the fact it was a snow day (indicating the roads are bad enough to shut school down), and the fact that Gahanna is 30 minutes from my location, Clement and Darshan opted NOT to invite me to go sledding. Who knew the unfortuante consequnces of their actions would be so dire for the future generations to come.
Clement was gracious enough to send me this photo of the decree given by the city of Gahanna.
Well here I am. May is coming and still pending any finalization with a future employment. No worries though, because I am not worried. I was able to come across a variety of great opportunities. Not only are they are stable and offer a much more pleasant atmosphere it would seem. I have been able to narrow it down to two different places, and I am awaiting some final details before I can make an definite choice and sign that elusive contract. Back to the point though with the blessing in disguise. I was much more vague in the initial post, but care less currently about being vague. Suffice it to say, when people say “maybe it’s a blessing in disguise” there are many ways to interpret the events that unfold, but I have to say PHEW. Despite having a rug tugged from under my feet, I fortunately landed in a field of mangoes. (I love mangoes, so I figure landing in a field of mangoes would be a good thing). More to come later I suppose when things are final, but I must say. Things are on the up and up.
Well when life throws your a curve ball, and the ball smacks you right in the face, breaking your nose or causing a orbital blow out fracture, it’s a little hard to see it as “a blessing in disguise.” Then again you really can not appreciate the situation until your nose stops bleeding, and you regain your eye sight. No worries, I did not get smacked in the head by a ball, but it feels more like a kick in the nuts. Eitherway, such things heal, and life goes on.
I will not go into specifics, but the adage “do not put all your eggs in one basket” does appear to hold true. In life make sure you have a back up plan of some sorts. I am not saying never invest all your heart into something. I’m saying you have to keep your mind open for opportunities. When you develop tunnel vision on only one outcome, you will freak out when you have to take a detour.
It appears I am just rambling on aimlessly now. I started out wanting to interject the pent up frustration I have had over the past month, but I do realize that in a public forum, I have to be cognoscente of what I display online. On that note maybe I will just end this thought here and now. I will update this fully once I figure out if my blessing in disguise truly is a blessing or just truly a kick in the nuts.
Seriously, what the heck is with all the spam comments. None are getting posted because my spam filter on WordPress is catching them all, but holy crap. I’ve deleted over 70 spam posts today. If I really had so many hits, I’d be flattered that people are coming to my site, but… not so much.
Please stop spamming. I will not approve your useless comments about Viagra or Tiberland or Acer, nor will I promote your useless blogpages that are selling medications or whatever.
Maybe this is falling on deaf ears since most spam is probably created by spambots. Only if this spam was the type people could eat, then the world would never go hungry… EVAR!
P.S. your comments will never be displayed spammers, so why bother?
So we took ViviBear for her 9mo checkup, and in the waiting room, there was this lady with a newborn. From behind her hair was well-groomed, and she dressed well, but when she turned around, I was expecting a rather attractive young mom (not that I am gawking, MommyMD was with me). To my surprise, the first thought was, is this grandma? I really wanted to make a comment to MommyMD next to me, but I figured knowing my sly incognito mannerisms, I didn’t want to make it too obvious that I am an a-hole.
Later that night, MommyMD brought the lady up, because the baby had some cute fluffy booties on, but she also noticed the weathered mother. Granted there are some older moms out there, and I understand that pushing a baby out for many hours, then having more hours of sleepless night can wear down someone’s complexion, but too many times have I seen people who look 20-30 years older than their actual age. This mommy was well-baked and had much makeup on. Either she was an 50 year old wearing the garb of a 25 year old, or she was a 25 year old that had been smoking and tanning since she was 10 years old hence looking like a 50 year old.
I’ll admit people look great with a good tan on, but it’s too bad that the consequences of looking good leads to such drastic results (skin cancer, wrinkles, looking a wrinkly baked turkey). The smoking part on the other hand is just a vice that smells and causes cancer.
It just boggles my mind when I meet people and I assume they are 70s or so, my first thought is, I hope you’ve had your osteoporosis screening Colonoscopy. Then I find out there 40 years old. Things that should tip you off that the person you talking to is like older than their age if they:
1. Smell like smoke: I mean reek of smoke to where it fills the whole room up. We’ve all met people, or have friends (or family) that have the nasty musty old smoke smell imbedded in their clothes and hair. No matter how much they wash, it wont go away (which makes me actually wonder if they do wash).
2. Have the complexion of an orange, or maybe… I don’t even know what to call it. Lets just say Snookie Complexion. I do suppose you can spray tan and appear orange as well, but you know what I am talking about.
Ah heck, I’ve been told I look like I am 40 (Clement you asshole). I don’t tan nor do I smoke. Maybe it’s the stress from all the ladies I am around (Combo, MommyMD, ViviBear). not likely. I just have a scholarly look:)
On that note, make sure you wear your sun block if you do go tanning, and just don’t smoke. If you do smoke, consider quitting. Otherwise don’t get offended when you are asked for your golden buckeye card at 40 years old.
When it comes to food, I have always felt that certain items were inseparable. One so item being the KFC Biscuit and the Honey packets. Ever since I was a child, I loved Colonel Sander’s biscuits… ONLY with the honey. I enjoyed going to KFC with my dad because we would eat in, and if I forgot to get the honey as we got our order, I could always ask for some. On days such as today, me and MommyMD and VIviBear went through the drive through.
The drive through is always a daunting route to chose. You never really know if you will get the right order, and by the time you get home… heck by the time you drive off, it’s too late to look back. Today being one of those days by the time I got home. I noticed the fatal flaw of our journey… I DID NOT ASK FOR THE HONEY! OMG!@@#$#%@#. Now this doesnt apply only to honey and biscuits, but also to Ketchup and Fries, BBQ sauce and (any) Chicken… etc. etc….
Usually at home we have ketchup, and some form of BBQ sauce so that is not an issue. One thing I dont usually have is honey laying around. Now if you are like my mom and keep ALL packets of anything, I’d have 5 year old honey packets laying around (which I did use back in the day, and am still alive). After going through one too many honey-less biscuit nights, I finally was smart enough to buy a Honey bear. Not only do I get a cute container, but I get the sweet delectable goodness that a Pooh like creature could bear (see what I did there?).
As I rummaged around my cupboards, and the fridge… alas. NO HONEYBEAR! Now MommyMD tried to calm me down with thoughts such as “o, we can get some tomorrow”. NAY I say. day old biscuits are hard as the X-mas cookies I found at work. (they were some nasty old hard cookies). What naivety. What true lack of appreciation of matches made in heaven… what is meant to be.
Now I know it is my fault for not asking the person for the honey packets, but I thought the attendants at the drive through window is supposed to ask me if I wanted anything else. I cant blame them though, unless they forget to give me parts of my order (as they will, especially at the McDonalds on Sawmill Road). They have messed up my order multiple times. One of the reasons my mom never goes through the drive through. She was always worried they would get her order wrong, either because they may not have understood her, or just because they are going to mess it up.
Back to the topic at hand. Well I had to make due, using butter and some pancake syrup. It allowed for an edible experience, but one far from delectable. I must get another Honeybear. Am I just crazy? or do I just appreciate the finer delicacies in penguinland.
What impassioned matches do you hold dear?
p.s. I finish charting much as I can at work, just so I can spend time to photoshopGIMP images together just for blogging purposes. If I could make a living with my ramblings…
When I first heard about this book, I thought, wow that is clever. It is apparently written by a parent for parents. It was apparently was intended for a later release, but a leaked PDF gotout on the internet, and it became insanely popular, sovthey decided to release it earlier (so i have read online). I immediately wanted to buy the book, but couldn’t really justify the purchase. I ended up buying it for a friend, who by the way will altogether baby girl to the world tomorrow 12/15/11.
When Vivibear came along, she slept fairly well through the night as well, so it didnt really apply. Well hqve things changed a bit over the past week. Not sure what is going on, maybe she is made I was posting pictures of her poo online, but she is now waking up mult times throughout the knight, and wont fall asleep without a fight. Maybe this is a normal phase in growing up, but at 5am, when i got to get up in 2 hrs I really want to ask Why the F*K wont you go to sleep.
I have to admit, the brunt of the night time sleepless baby care is performed by “the boss.” Many a morning/night I continue sleeping as the wails of the babe go answered by the matriarch. I really cant complain much considering we are lucky to have Nai Nai (Grandma) here during the weekday to watchover this cute yet unruly chic. EItherway, lack of sleep still sucks. I dont think I have been sleep deprived like this since being on call intern year. Instead of catering the requests of a 37 year old asking for pain medicine, or something to help them sleep in the middle of the night, I have to answer to the demands of a 7 month 3 week old who will not sleep. She’s pretty darn cute though so you have to forgive her.
I just wonder what things will be like in the next few years. She will start talking (back), and walking (running away), as if to “cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war.” [i think that works right?]
I can already foresee myself facing off with this face in many future confrontations.
All I have to say is bring it! Your cute glare has no affect, okay you can have it…
p.s. Vivienne, just keep in mind I do have pictures of your poo, as well as you dressed up in a penguin outfit, and I will show them to any future boyfriends to be.
As far as a review of the book:
Short read. Unlikely will you find yourself reading this aloud to your child, unless you want to curse are your baby aloud. You get the gist of the whole book in the first page, but it does hold o, so true throughout the sleepless nights.
Is there a Drug to put me out of my Drug Misery? Some days I wish I stayed in engineering. Today wasnt one of the bad days, but you know it is a bad day when you hear a few key terms over and over again:
– “It doesnt even touch the pain”
– “It doesnt even take the edge off”
– “I’m allergic to tylenol, motrin, tramadol, neurontin, lyrica, cymbalta…” (basically all non narcs)
I dont know what it is, but anytime I hear the words “doesnt take the edge off” I immediately am suspicious that someone is trying to pull one over me. This is likely the wrong way to view things, but I cant help it. It’s iteresting how so many people use the same terms, as if they are on a forum talking to eachother to determine set phrases to use. Maybe it’s fairly common vernacular. whatever, doesnt matter.
So I am currently in process of applying for my full DEA (drug enforcement agency) license, and am having second thoughts. Maybe if I dont bother getting a DEA license, I can just tell all patients: sorry I cant prescribe any candy controlled substances, i.e. xanax, percocet, vicodin…
Then I cut out so much future headache. I know this is not reasonable, because sometimes these medications are necessary, and indicated.
If I had to tell myself in the past how many people I would have to interact with that are trying to scam me out of a prescription, I think I’d still be in engineering, or perhaps working at a Putt Putt place. There is a dichotomy between people who are seeking medication: a. those who are addicted/abusing the medication, b. those who are selling them feeding the addiction. If there was no street value for the candy, then I would imagine the problem would not be as rampant, especially in a down economy, but alas supply and demand rule supreme. It sure as heck does not help when you have doctors passing out controlled substances like prostitute fliers in Vegas. (For those who have not been in Vegas, lets use the analogy “like samples at Walmart”… I dont know if that works either)
As it is I am not in this field for the money, but I am definitely not in this field to waste my time with people who lie to me and harass me for medication. I do love the days where I actually feel I have helped people though. That reminds me why I AM in this field.
Maybe I should write a book, “Willy Wonka and the Oxycodone Factory”