I am going to Australia at the end of March. This is very exciting. It marks my first foray into "adventure travel." Lots of people travel to cool locations and explore the land. My vacation preferences to date have been Florida, and, um, Florida, and ... uh ... Costco?
One of my closest friends is an adventure traveler. I think this will be a good experience - I am not gutsy enough to travel alone. This way, I get to have all the adventure with the added benefit of companionship. Crocodile Dundee, here I come!
I just booked the ticket online, which was WICKED expensive. Whenever you make an egregious purchase, do you ever find yourself inexplicably apprehensive? As I stared at the final price, my mind started racing. I thought "This is nearly a month's salary, if not more. This much money can be put toward my medical school expenses. Spending this much money makes me a really extravagant person."
But then, fears aside, I pressed the "Purchase" button. Do you know what I did while the little hourglass was indicating that my credit card debt was slowly inching up? I prayed. I don't know for what or why, but I prayed. Perhaps I prayed for a safe and fun trip. Perhaps I was thanking the powers that be for my fortunate circumstances to have the time, means and friends to allow me these experiences. Perhaps I was just praying my credit card wouldn't get denied. Yeah, I think it was the last one. Woohee, it went through.
Three years ago a group of girlfriends and I went to Las Vegas for little debauchery. While walking on the strip, a man handed us a flier for a nude male revue called "Thunder Down Under." And dammit if it wasn't a 5-4 vote against going. And as if I really need to tell you, I was very much the ringleader of the girls who wanted to go see the show. There is still residual bitterness from the loss.
And now, I can finally go see the real Thunder Down Under. Hallelujah!
Monday, January 30, 2006
Thursday, January 19, 2006
now that's what i call funny
This may be offensive, but it's so damn funny.
Check this and other really funny t-shirts here. I am particularly fond of the backwards one - see if you know which one I mean.
Check this and other really funny t-shirts here. I am particularly fond of the backwards one - see if you know which one I mean.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
i am a lucky moron.
Today's posts focus on restrooms.
This morning, I stupidly, stupidly placed some cash in the pocket of my jeans. Not an insignificant sum either - around $100, a recent ATM run that was meant to get me through the next few weeks. And by ATM, I mean Automated-Teller-Mom, who had generously given my increasingly poor student bum some spending money this morning before I returned to Boston.
I went to the restroom this morning at work - quite absent-minded and tired from my 6:30 AM flight (JetBlue, I love your cheap fares but could you please extend them to some semi-reasonable hours of the day??). But yes, went to the bathroom, freshened up, powdered my nose (not really, but it sounds nice) etc.
About an hour later, I noticed the following post-it note on the bathroom door. And people, I don't roam the hallways and linger near the bathroom. I literally sit in front of the bathroom. The post it said "If you feel that you have dropped some $$$ in this rest room, please page 55555."
I read it once, and didn't think anything of it. A minute later, I did ye-olde-Homer slap to the forehead and said "D'Oh!" I checked my pocket, and sure enough, the money had fallen out. I am such a moron! And I am SO lucky!
But I am more moron than lucky, as you shall see. I took the post-it, but instead of reading "page 55555", I thought it said "Call 5-5555". So I did. A man answered. "Computer support!" he said.
"Um, did you leave the post-it on the bathroom saying that you had found some money in there?" I asked.
Muffled laughter. "No, I sure didn't."
"Oh, um, thanks."
I then wandered down the hallway, and then asked a secretary whom I do not know how to page someone. She told me how to do it - amazingly, online. Tekmology! Unbelieveable! I paged the number with the following message "Hi, did you leave the post-it on the bathroom? If so, please call me at [my work phone #]"
Sure enough, he did. And then he came by and dropped off the $100. I thanked him profusely and tried not to notice his sardonic smile, so obviously thinking "This girl is one lucky moron."
Sorry for being so careless Mom. I hope this doesn't block off future withdrawals from the ATM!
This morning, I stupidly, stupidly placed some cash in the pocket of my jeans. Not an insignificant sum either - around $100, a recent ATM run that was meant to get me through the next few weeks. And by ATM, I mean Automated-Teller-Mom, who had generously given my increasingly poor student bum some spending money this morning before I returned to Boston.
I went to the restroom this morning at work - quite absent-minded and tired from my 6:30 AM flight (JetBlue, I love your cheap fares but could you please extend them to some semi-reasonable hours of the day??). But yes, went to the bathroom, freshened up, powdered my nose (not really, but it sounds nice) etc.
About an hour later, I noticed the following post-it note on the bathroom door. And people, I don't roam the hallways and linger near the bathroom. I literally sit in front of the bathroom. The post it said "If you feel that you have dropped some $$$ in this rest room, please page 55555."
I read it once, and didn't think anything of it. A minute later, I did ye-olde-Homer slap to the forehead and said "D'Oh!" I checked my pocket, and sure enough, the money had fallen out. I am such a moron! And I am SO lucky!
But I am more moron than lucky, as you shall see. I took the post-it, but instead of reading "page 55555", I thought it said "Call 5-5555". So I did. A man answered. "Computer support!" he said.
"Um, did you leave the post-it on the bathroom saying that you had found some money in there?" I asked.
Muffled laughter. "No, I sure didn't."
"Oh, um, thanks."
I then wandered down the hallway, and then asked a secretary whom I do not know how to page someone. She told me how to do it - amazingly, online. Tekmology! Unbelieveable! I paged the number with the following message "Hi, did you leave the post-it on the bathroom? If so, please call me at [my work phone #]"
Sure enough, he did. And then he came by and dropped off the $100. I thanked him profusely and tried not to notice his sardonic smile, so obviously thinking "This girl is one lucky moron."
Sorry for being so careless Mom. I hope this doesn't block off future withdrawals from the ATM!
transitory
I am getting antsy.
As I prepare for a new journey come September, I'm feeling very unsettled in my current situation. I wish I knew where I was going for medical school ... where I will be spending the next four years of my life. I wish I knew if I'm finally going to meet someone semi-normal and get on with this whole marriage/adulthood thing already. I wish, I wish ... but right now, I just wait.
Boston is starting to feel like more of a place of the past, even though I still live here. Is that weird? I know I'm leaving so I've already begun to mentally disconnect from my life here. I'm not that interested in my work, and I'm starting to plan out when to leave my job and move back to NY. Needless to say, the date is continually creeping up. As of now, I think I'll travel for most of March and be back in NY by the beginning of April. Buh-bye beantown!
Always, always in transit. I am constantly out of town - a few months ago it was for interviews and now it's been more for random trips. I feel like I did when I was working - although this time the traveling is all on my dime. In spite of that, it's still so much more fun this way.
One thing has remained constant though: I hate airport restrooms. Given the amount of traveling I've been doing, I've been relegated to use these restrooms more so than I would like. Do you know why I hate them?
Because never, ever, in my entire life, has an automatic flush toilet ever flushed at the right time. Seriously, whose genius idea was this? Are people really SO lazy that they can't flush the toilet? (Sadly, the answer is probably "yes" to this question). Some may say that auto flush toilets are more sanitary. Aside from the aesthetic factor (i.e., said toilets actually being flushed), I disagree. Even pre-auto-flush toilets, I skirted this problem by pushing the handle with my foot. And don't tell me you've never done that either.
Did anyone see Beavis and Butthead Do America? Great movie. And if you did, perhaps you may remember the scene where Beavis and Butthead are transfixed in front of auto flush urinals. They stand there, wave their hands in front of the urinals, and grunt the Beavis and Butthead laugh while the urinals keep flushing.
Not so fun in real life when the toilet flushes when you least expect it!
As I prepare for a new journey come September, I'm feeling very unsettled in my current situation. I wish I knew where I was going for medical school ... where I will be spending the next four years of my life. I wish I knew if I'm finally going to meet someone semi-normal and get on with this whole marriage/adulthood thing already. I wish, I wish ... but right now, I just wait.
Boston is starting to feel like more of a place of the past, even though I still live here. Is that weird? I know I'm leaving so I've already begun to mentally disconnect from my life here. I'm not that interested in my work, and I'm starting to plan out when to leave my job and move back to NY. Needless to say, the date is continually creeping up. As of now, I think I'll travel for most of March and be back in NY by the beginning of April. Buh-bye beantown!
Always, always in transit. I am constantly out of town - a few months ago it was for interviews and now it's been more for random trips. I feel like I did when I was working - although this time the traveling is all on my dime. In spite of that, it's still so much more fun this way.
One thing has remained constant though: I hate airport restrooms. Given the amount of traveling I've been doing, I've been relegated to use these restrooms more so than I would like. Do you know why I hate them?
Because never, ever, in my entire life, has an automatic flush toilet ever flushed at the right time. Seriously, whose genius idea was this? Are people really SO lazy that they can't flush the toilet? (Sadly, the answer is probably "yes" to this question). Some may say that auto flush toilets are more sanitary. Aside from the aesthetic factor (i.e., said toilets actually being flushed), I disagree. Even pre-auto-flush toilets, I skirted this problem by pushing the handle with my foot. And don't tell me you've never done that either.
Did anyone see Beavis and Butthead Do America? Great movie. And if you did, perhaps you may remember the scene where Beavis and Butthead are transfixed in front of auto flush urinals. They stand there, wave their hands in front of the urinals, and grunt the Beavis and Butthead laugh while the urinals keep flushing.
Not so fun in real life when the toilet flushes when you least expect it!
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
happy happy joy joy
Here are some cute pictures from last week. It was my amazing roommate Rainey's birthday. Given that we are both New Yorkers born and bred, I treated her to our most favorite birthday ice cream cake from CARVEL!!
Celebrate good times ... Come on!
Celebrate good times ... Come on!
the love of my life.
I love an intangible force of modernity. It is a coping mechanism. Helping me manage my life, minimize boredom, multi-task, procrastinate ... and most importantly, surf the web while supposedly doing "real work." My heart belongs to ...
ALT-TAB.
How I love thee. Let me count the ways.
1) I love you first thing in the morning when I catch up on CNN.com and NYTimes.com
2) I love you mid-morning as I check e-mail
3) I love you at lunchtime as I surf Amazon.com for nothing in particular
4) I love you in the afternoon as I get sucked into friendster
5) I love you as the day concludes and I once again check e-mail and then write a blog post
Alt-Tab, will you marry me?
ALT-TAB.
How I love thee. Let me count the ways.
1) I love you first thing in the morning when I catch up on CNN.com and NYTimes.com
2) I love you mid-morning as I check e-mail
3) I love you at lunchtime as I surf Amazon.com for nothing in particular
4) I love you in the afternoon as I get sucked into friendster
5) I love you as the day concludes and I once again check e-mail and then write a blog post
Alt-Tab, will you marry me?
Thursday, January 05, 2006
hairy arms
I took a glace at the stats for my blog. The meter can show me search words that have led people to my blog. Someone chanced upon the site by searching for "hairy arms", and per my second to last post this site came up as a hit.
In case that reader returns, here's my advice. Wax. No pain, no gain. That's my motto.
Man fifth grade sucked. And if those were my arms, imagine my legs. I was finally allowed to get my legs waxed at age 10. My desi female readers will understand my plight. My mom didn't take me to a salon. She took me to some desi woman's apartment who did ghetto waxing on the side. This woman made wax on the stove with sugar, and um ... sugar? Then she used a butter knife (a METAL butterknife) to put the wax on. And no muslin strips. She used old torn up sheets as the wax strips. We are so cheap. Needless to say, I never went back to her again.
It gets worse. Since I was so young, my mom only let me wax the bottom part of my legs - not even up to my knees. And then she dressed me in shorts for school the next day (it was summer). The shorts covered only half of my thigh! Imagine going to school with hair up to my knees and nothing below that. It was like that scene from "40-Year Old Virgin" when Andy gets his chest waxed. Except sooooo much worse.
By the way, I know I tell these funny and rather cringe-worthy stories of my childhood and paint my mom as some evil perpetrator. But she didn't mean anything by it. My mom is the best woman in the whole wide world. In fact, I think she had the premonition to know that one day people would write journals on something called the "Internet" and that her daughter would be one of these people. She did these things to ensure that I would have material 16 years later. Isn't she amazing?
In case that reader returns, here's my advice. Wax. No pain, no gain. That's my motto.
Man fifth grade sucked. And if those were my arms, imagine my legs. I was finally allowed to get my legs waxed at age 10. My desi female readers will understand my plight. My mom didn't take me to a salon. She took me to some desi woman's apartment who did ghetto waxing on the side. This woman made wax on the stove with sugar, and um ... sugar? Then she used a butter knife (a METAL butterknife) to put the wax on. And no muslin strips. She used old torn up sheets as the wax strips. We are so cheap. Needless to say, I never went back to her again.
It gets worse. Since I was so young, my mom only let me wax the bottom part of my legs - not even up to my knees. And then she dressed me in shorts for school the next day (it was summer). The shorts covered only half of my thigh! Imagine going to school with hair up to my knees and nothing below that. It was like that scene from "40-Year Old Virgin" when Andy gets his chest waxed. Except sooooo much worse.
By the way, I know I tell these funny and rather cringe-worthy stories of my childhood and paint my mom as some evil perpetrator. But she didn't mean anything by it. My mom is the best woman in the whole wide world. In fact, I think she had the premonition to know that one day people would write journals on something called the "Internet" and that her daughter would be one of these people. She did these things to ensure that I would have material 16 years later. Isn't she amazing?
adult ADD
Do you remember the commercials for Strattera, the ADHD medication, that came out a while ago? They showed a woman in a meeting. And then they showed her "thoughts" as a disjointed vignette. For example, as she sat in the meeting suddenly her thought was her kid at soccer practice, or her cooking a casserole for dinner.
The advertisement then said "If you can't concentrate, or your thoughts are disorganized, you might have adult ADD."
Well if that's the case, then EVERYONE has ADHD. I think that was the point of the commercial though.
For whatever it's worth, I think we all have elements of ADD to our personalities. Remaining focused 24/7 is impossible, and we need to let our thoughts swim amorphously in our subconscious for us to ever come to terms with them. Then and only then can we think clearly and coherently.
Oh, I lost my train of thought. Gosh darn ADD. In all seriousness, over the last few days my brain has been checked out and I can't hold a single thought for more than a minute. But I think that's OK. Over christmas break I focused on completing a difficult application, and it took all of my energy and attention. To recover, I've hit the opposite extreme - complete mental disarray and confusion.
What was I saying? Hee hee. As part of my current inability to say anything with substance, I will change the topic. My roommate and I were recently discussing how the meaning and nuance of language is deteriorating. The use of modifiers such as "like" and "whatever" are so commonplace that the actual meaning of the words "like" and "whatever" have been lost.
With the onslaught of e-mail, instant messaging and text messaging, I fear that all the strides in communication we seem to be making will be undone with the loss of all substantive meaning. Recently, while surfing the host site for my blog, I came upon some blogs by high-schoolers. Truth be told? I was *appalled* at the use of language and acronyms. It felt as if my every nerve were being scraped by a dull nail file.
I admit I am a grammar snob. I have mentioned this before, but I think hearing language used eloquently and correctly is a beautiful experience. Not that I am an excellent writer by any stretch of the imagination; nor am I the best in my every day speech. But I am trying to get better, and frankly this blog challenges me to do so by creatively articulating myself.
Who will challenge the next generation though? Will novels of the future be full of grammatical mistakes and peppered with acronyms?
Chapter 1:
Jane like walked into the room. Billy was standing there and OMG he was like "Hey Jane" but Jane was like "whatever" and then Jane said "Your shirt is untucked" and then Billy was so embarassed but then they both laughed OMG it was so funny ROTFL.
Someone (or the educational system at least) please help us.
My iPOD is making funny noises. I am so the girl who messes up all her technological gadgets. I lost my cell phone, broke my laptop, and managed to screw up my iPOD twice in a year. No wonder I'm all about books with words and trying to save the art of language. I am the quintessential luddite.
The advertisement then said "If you can't concentrate, or your thoughts are disorganized, you might have adult ADD."
Well if that's the case, then EVERYONE has ADHD. I think that was the point of the commercial though.
For whatever it's worth, I think we all have elements of ADD to our personalities. Remaining focused 24/7 is impossible, and we need to let our thoughts swim amorphously in our subconscious for us to ever come to terms with them. Then and only then can we think clearly and coherently.
Oh, I lost my train of thought. Gosh darn ADD. In all seriousness, over the last few days my brain has been checked out and I can't hold a single thought for more than a minute. But I think that's OK. Over christmas break I focused on completing a difficult application, and it took all of my energy and attention. To recover, I've hit the opposite extreme - complete mental disarray and confusion.
What was I saying? Hee hee. As part of my current inability to say anything with substance, I will change the topic. My roommate and I were recently discussing how the meaning and nuance of language is deteriorating. The use of modifiers such as "like" and "whatever" are so commonplace that the actual meaning of the words "like" and "whatever" have been lost.
With the onslaught of e-mail, instant messaging and text messaging, I fear that all the strides in communication we seem to be making will be undone with the loss of all substantive meaning. Recently, while surfing the host site for my blog, I came upon some blogs by high-schoolers. Truth be told? I was *appalled* at the use of language and acronyms. It felt as if my every nerve were being scraped by a dull nail file.
I admit I am a grammar snob. I have mentioned this before, but I think hearing language used eloquently and correctly is a beautiful experience. Not that I am an excellent writer by any stretch of the imagination; nor am I the best in my every day speech. But I am trying to get better, and frankly this blog challenges me to do so by creatively articulating myself.
Who will challenge the next generation though? Will novels of the future be full of grammatical mistakes and peppered with acronyms?
Chapter 1:
Jane like walked into the room. Billy was standing there and OMG he was like "Hey Jane" but Jane was like "whatever" and then Jane said "Your shirt is untucked" and then Billy was so embarassed but then they both laughed OMG it was so funny ROTFL.
Someone (or the educational system at least) please help us.
My iPOD is making funny noises. I am so the girl who messes up all her technological gadgets. I lost my cell phone, broke my laptop, and managed to screw up my iPOD twice in a year. No wonder I'm all about books with words and trying to save the art of language. I am the quintessential luddite.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
say what?
Happy New Year everyone!
Here are some funny things I overheard / were said to me / were said to friends:
Here are some funny things I overheard / were said to me / were said to friends:
- Just now, I overheard a conversation between two people in front of my cubicle. One guy asked another "OK, when do you want to talk about the project?" And the other guy responded "I'm going to urinate, and then we'll talk in five minutes." I mean, it was obvious he was headed to the bathroom, but did he need to spell it out like that? And these are DOCTORS people!!
- I flew back to Boston on Sunday. While at the airport waiting for my flight, I decided to get some McDonalds. The McDonalds counter was super busy. I finally ordered. The cashier, a large African American woman, said "Six Chicken McNuggets?" I nodded my head and took the bag from her. She looked me straight in the eye and said "Each one will make you fat." I swear! That's what she said. I didn't know what to do. I stared at her incredulously for a second. And then started to laugh, and she laughed even louder than I did.
- My friend said that while on his flight, a gay steward was trying to hit on him. Now, I caveat that my friend is a bit of an exaggerator. But he told me that the steward asked him what he did for a living. My friend said he was in medical school. The steward replied "That's great! I am studying for my bachelorette in Marketing."
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