It's HERE!

There's not many things that I *want* in the sense of expensive electronics. But when the new version of the Amazon Kindle was released - I told Husband, "I want that for my birthday." I decided to pool together any birthday gifts that I received from family and buy it.

What is it? Brilliance. It's basically an electronic book. You download books onto it (wirelessly! from anywhere!) and then read them. The screen is a technology called "electronic ink" so it's not like reading off a computer screen - it really is like reading off of paper.

My ONLY regret is that for me, a book is a shared experience. I love passing along books to people whom I think will enjoy them. In fact, I usually find myself racing through the last few chapters of a book because I've already identified the next reader I will pass it along to. Books are meant to be shared - and the Kindle takes that away. Other than that - it seems like nothing but good things for a voracious reader. I'll keep you posted.

The Amazon box arrived yesterday and I couldn't get home from work fast enough to play. After setting it up - the only problem is that I have about 4 chapters left of the current paperback that I'm reading, and I won't let myself download my first Kindle book until I finish my current read. Otherwise I know I will NEVER finish those 4 chapters - and I have to, because I can't wait to give this book to my friend, Anne.

Come for the Money! Stay for the . . . Bears?

When you are doing an orthopaedic residency program, you get solicitations from practices across the country inviting you to join them upon completion of your program. They are pretty standard. They offer lots of money, flexible hours, family-friendly activities nearby, and a great call-schedule. (Althought the truth is - they have to offer you these benefits because the program is in the middle of NOWHERE.)

And to prove that, the mailings never indicate where the practice is. There will be vague references like "short drive to Grand Rapids" or "within 3 hours of ski resorts." But I would like to know what they define as a "short drive." And you can cover a good deal of the United States by drawing a 3 hour radius around every ski resort in the country.

Before today, my favorite mailing had a photo on the front of three large deer. In big bold font, one directly underneath the other were two words:

Orthopaedics

Mississippi

Which I guess, technically, is all you need. But it seems like they could have come up with a catchy slogan. Or at least a verb.

But today a new winner has emerged. The back info side of the mailing looks like any other:

And here is the front:

A few things could be happening here.
a) Perhaps there are fierce, hungry bears in whatever city/rural backwoods area that this practice is located in
b) Maybe the doctors will be angry (like a bear) if you don't join their practice
c) Or the bear needs an hip replacement

What sort of emotions is this picture supposed to evoke? Because frankly, when I think of the top reasons why we would consider choosing a practice for Husband to join, fierce bears are WAY at the bottom of the list.

Ash Wednesday

Dear Mom,
Today is Ash Wednesday. Please don't accidentally tell anyone that they have a little schmutz on their forehead and that they may need a mirror.

Love,
Daughter

My husband has more pagers than your husband.

They appear to be reproducing while he's not looking. As you can see, we've come a long way since August.

An Open Letter to my Baby Brother

For those of you that were not at my brother's rehearsal dinner on Friday night, or for those of you that WERE there but have difficulty interpreting the blubbering words of an emotional wreck . . .

An open letter to my brother - Craigles.

The relationship between siblings is a truly unique one. You were my first friend. And my closest for many years after that. Our relationship, like any, ebbs and flows. Things brought us closer together or further apart. In the most typical sense, siblings are a part of our lives for decades before our spouses ever comes along, and decades after our parents generation has gone. They are the single strongest link from our past, through our present, and to our future.

You and I never really fought growing up. Not the yelling and screaming that many siblings endure. Ours was the more passive: like whether or not I was singing under my breath in the car just to annoy you (and for the record - I was).

Once I left for college - we would go months without seeing each other. Our phone calls were purposeful - Sometimes minor: who was taking care of buying dad's birthday present. And sometimes more. Talking each other through Mom's surgery and recovery each assuring the other that everything would be ok.

In 2004 I was living in Boston. The Boston Red Sox had won the first three games of the World Series and were up by three runs in the bottom of the ninth. The entire city was like a time bomb ready to explode; chaos was predicted. The Sox hadn't won the series in 86 years and we were literally three outs away. My cell phone rang - I pick up the phone to hear your voice - you asked "Are you watching the game?" I responded "Of course, I'm at home - and about to miss the last out because I'm on the phone with you." "Ok good" - you say - "I just wanted to make sure you were somewhere safe."

I watched the Sox clinch the series through tears. Not because I cared about the game. Or the team. Or even the sport in general. But because I realized that you and I would always be intricately linked as siblings. We would ALWAYS be a part of each others lives. And that no matter how much time or space was between us, or how different we might be - in looks or in personality - the same blood ran through our veins.

Which is why, tonight - I am overjoyed that you are marrying Julie. Everyone that knows you knows that Julie has brought out the best version of you. And remember that when all the placecards and floral arrangements are cleared. When the band packs up and the photographer leaves - all that matters in the end is that you'll be married to the woman that you fell in love with. Craig - I have never been more honored to be your sister. And Julie - welcome to the family.

My New Favorite Thing

[I started this about a week ago and never finished . . . so it's a little out-dated. In the end, I was sick for a total of about 18 days . . . but I'm all better now.]

I've been sick for 16 days. I'm pretty much sick of being sick. Today at work a colleague recommended that I do a sinus rinse with saline solution. Ironically, husband had a sample of a product called NeilMed Sinus Rinse in his car (don't ask.) If you've never heard of a sinus rinse, you basically squirt a large amount of saline solution up your nostril at a constant rate, while leaning over the sink and breathing through your mouth. The saline solution flushes through your sinus and - get this - comes out the other nostril!

Husband was fairly certain I was going to drown myself in the kitchen sink.

It worked AMAZINGLY. I'm serious. Life-changing. If you can get over the temporary sense of being underwater - it is a fantastic treatment. It cleaned out all the "gunk" and germs and stuff that collects in your nasal cavity and sinuses when you get sick. [It should be noted that I'm the type of person that appreciates gunk-removal of any kind. I like washing the crusty toothpaste from the inside of the electric toothbrush. I enjoy cleaning the refrigerator. Once a week I spray the "air-in-a-can" on my laptop keyboard to make sure all the minuscule dirt and particles are gone. Not vital information . . . but probably good perspective in light of my glowing recommendation of the Sinus Rinse.]

Now I have become that obnoxious person who is trying to spread the gospel of sinus rinse to everyone that I know.
My workout buddy feels like she's coming down with a cold? Sinus Rinse.
A coworker is seen carrying around tissues? Sinus Rinse.
I heard someone sneeze in the grocery store the other day and it was all I could do not to chase her down the frozen food aisle with the squeeze bottle in one hand and the convenient pre-measured saline packs in the other.

If you are considering trying a sinus rinse - shoot me an email. I'm (obviously) happy to share my experience.

Weekend in Review

Saturday
- Worked out with workout-buddy. Cardio. Abs. Push-ups.
- Discovered new favorite breakfast spot - Mug & Muffin.
- Returned over $200 in various window treatments that did not work
- Went to Barnes and Noble and reminded myself how much I love books. The smell of books. The feel of books. I love books. I bought a new one and promised myself that I wouldn't open it until I finished grading my papers.
- Decided to put off grading papers and read new book instead.
- Found the closest thing to New York pizza in Greenville. Enjoyed a slice and a Diet Pepsi. Perfect Valentines Day dinner.

Sunday
- Lunch with friends. Wonderful.
- Ordered window treatments online. Fourth time's a charm.
- Graded papers (finally) at Panara. Realized that I tend to read essays out loud when grading and that other Panara customers may not appreciate this technique.
- Caught up with future-sister-in-law about last minute wedding plans
- Relived childhood (not mine, but probably someone elses) with a grilled cheese and tomato soup dinner.

Overall weekend analysis - thumbs up.

Confection Confessions

I recently got an email from a good friend and former colleague. She wrote that chocolate from an event we did one year ago had turned up in the office and she was ashamed to report that she was eating it.

Be not ashamed. . . I can totally beat that.
At the lower school, they collect Halloween candy in November from the kids to donate to those less fortunate. So naturally the kids (and moms) pick out all the good stuff like Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and 3Musketeers for themselves and they donate things like Jolly Ranchers and Mary Janes. (At this exact moment - my mom is saying, outloud to no one in particular, "I LOVE Mary Janes." She is the only one.)

Apparently the less fortunate kids (whoever they are . . . I'm not sure about this part of the story) can only accept so much candy - so the rest of the reject candy (the REJECT rejects - so to speak) are sitting in the Chaplains office hidden behind his couch.

On a DAILY basis, I go into his office (it's next to mine) and rummage through this enormous box of reject-reject candy looking for a tiny morsel of goodness that I can enjoy. Every once in a while I find a gem - but mostly I end up wasting calories on things like Mystery-flavor Dum-dum lollypops.

So enjoy the year-old chocolate with pride . . . and if you are looking for old Tootsie Rolls - I know where to find some.

Even a monkey . . .Part II

If you ever make brownies from a box and forget the oil, and you decide to empty the mixed batter from the pan BACK into the bowl to add said oil. And then you try to mix the oil into the already well-liquefied batter and bake it . . . you will end up with incredibly oily brownies that do not hold their shape and cannot be served in public. They are only edible with a spoon directly out of the pan - which, frankly, is how I believe god intended it anyway.

My 100th Post

This is it.

Even a monkey could do it.

I made brownies tonight for my "Secret Pal" at work (we were assigned these secret pals in the beginning of the year and we periodically do nice things for them). It was a box mix - so the recipe was ridiculously easy. Stir package of brownie mix with 2 eggs, 1/2 cup of oil, and 1/4 cup of water. I measured it out, stirred the batch up, preheated the oven, greased the pan, poured in the mix, and set the timer.

As I cleaned up the kitchen, I realized that the measuring cup still had oil in it. 1/2 cup of oil to be exact.

Damn you secret pal.

(Too much) Security Code

How come every time a website asks me to type in the randomly generated security code that is partially obscured and typically has 6 crooked alpha-numeric characters - there is always at least one TOTALLY AMBIGUOUS character.

Is that a zero or a lower case 'o'?
A 1? a lower case "l"? a capital "I"?
Lord have mercy. There are two dozen letters and about 8 numbers that are totally distinct looking. You couldn't pick one of those??

And the kicker is, when I'm finally forced to just make a guess - I inevitably guess wrong. Go figure (or number. . . . who can even tell?)

My Father, the Editor

My dad reads my blog regularly (hi Dad!). And then, lovingly, either calls or emails me with notations that include spelling and grammatical errors that I have recently made. He also makes recommendations on certain posts that I should remove. Sometimes out of concern for my continued employment. Othertimes out of concern for my reputation. If ever there was a question as to whether censorship was alive or dead - I assure you - it's alive and working in real estate in North Buckhead.

So, allow me to clear up one thing. Due to entertainment value and creative licensing, I failed to mention in my previous post (Going-Going-Gone) that Carmax had NO INTEREST in learning what was wrong with the car. In fact, when Husband began to say, "There are a few problems," . . . the Carmax representative actually responded, "I don't need to hear them." It's clear that they have a workable and successful formula for purchasing cars for auction and we did NOT take advantage in any way.

We are good people. Good honest people. Raised by good honest parents who love us very much. Thanks for reading, Dad. I love you too :)

Cuisinart Crazy

This weekend, we hosted the Ortho resident get-together at our house. I made enough Apricot Chicken for 23 people and there were TONS of leftovers. So on Sunday I decided to break out the Cuisinart food processor to make some chicken salad. I'm clearly still learning food processing techniques . . . because instead of chicken salad - I made a substance that could be described as chicken mousse. It's creamy, and on the scale of various states of matter - it falls a bit closer to the liquid than the solid end.

Tonight I ate my chicken mousse for dinner (spread on Ritz crackers). Husband was gagging next to me. He couldn't decide which was more disgusting - the chicken spread or the fact that I actually ate it.

Things I've recently given to Husband

Lots of love.
Clean laundry.
A nice J.Crew sweater.
Dedication and devotion.
The rhinovirus.

Going - Going - Gone

We finally took the Rodeo to Carmax today to get someone to take it off our hands. They checked out the interior and exterior and complimented us on how great the car looked for its age. Then the appraiser took it for a spin to see how it drove and check out the mechanics. We were fairly certain that he would return, probably laughing, as he told us they weren't giving us one-red-cent for our piece-of-junk car that has a blown head gasket (p.s. We had to JUMP START the car in order to even get it to the Carmax.)

The report from the appraiser was that the car looked great, the mechanics checked out, the systems were go, and they were willing to offer us MUCH more than we anticipated for the car. Somehow husband and I managed to keep straight faces as we accepted the offer and filled out the paperwork.

In the meantime, my Jewish guilt is killing me. Some poor guy is going to buy that car at an auction and realize that it needs over three thousand dollars worth of engine work. That is, if they can even get it off the lot in one piece. Best of luck.