Frodo Goes Bananarama

Jameson had successfully passed his COMP, a 4-hour comprehensive multiple choice exam over 2 years of medical school, and his Kaplan Exam, a grueling 8-hour exam that mirrored the types of questions he'd see on the USMLE Step 1. He was officially done with Basic Sciences. At any minute I expected to see Gandalf standing on a dock motioning for Ja to come aboard a white ship with billowing sails while something by Hans Zimmer played in the background. Instead, Grey and I had picked up a sweaty, wrinkled, and still buzzed Jameson from the Fort Myers airport following his final night on the island. Not quite as grand as I'd hoped, but we were back together.

After living separate lives for 2 months, during which Jameson had spent at least 16 hours a day studying sans fam and I'd been working 10 hour days/6days a week while Grey was summer schooling, there was a bit of an adjustment period. The grossest change was in scenery. We'd moved from a postage stamp sized apartment with lizards, enough ants to create our own farm, and no closet to a home that in comparison was palatial. Grey and I were used to it, Jameson was shell-shocked.

"Wife! We have 2 closets AND 2 sinks in our bathroom! Wait. I just said our bathroom. We have our own," Ja was muttering while walking through the house I'd found to rent during the next 2 year phase of medical school. He'd had a similar reaction at the grocery store when we'd spent less $30 on produce and a 12-pack of beer.

All weirdness aside from spending so much time apart, we were back in our own groove. Grey was in school, I was working, and Jameson had just started to officially study for the Step 1. We’d even joined LA Fitness, fondly referred to by Jameson as a ‘real gym’ with ‘working treadmills’ and no reports of neisseria meningitidis (the bacteria that can cause meningitis) from lack of ‘proper cleaning’. America was shaping up to be AB FAB after 2 years on a tiny island.

It was a typically crazy Monday for me. Alarm at 4:30AM, coffee, check e-mail, coffee, catch up on client number one, check e-mail, more coffee. During lunch Jameson and I’d decided to head to the gym. He was working legs and I’d be up on the treadmill. I was almost back to a normal running regimen following my foot break from last November. Almost.

Dropping my Nano in the cup holder on the treadmill, I hit the Start button and noticed that the girl on the treadmill to my right was wearing a cute pink FGCU tank top. I wanted it, if only to wear to the gym. Walking at a measly 2.0, I tapped the shoulder of the girl next to me pulling her out of the conversation she was having with the girl to her right.

“Hi, I was just wondering where you bought that tank. Super cute,” I asked while still snailing it on the treadmill.

“Oh! Thanks,” she answered with a mega-smile that screamed YOUTH (no, not bitter). “I got it at the bookstore, but sometimes you can find them at Publix. Do you want one for your daughter?”

I’m not sure what my face looked like, but it must have screamed murder because the chippie and her bestie both stopped their treadmills and left. Hadn’t I suffered enough with the youngsters at AUC? The comments about my flabby arms, being asked if I was expecting, and assumed to be the same age as a woman as old as my mother. Karma, what did I ever do to you?

MacGyver and the Armadillo

Exactly 30 days until Jameson will be joining Grey and I in Florida. 30 long days of juggling unpacking, single parenting, furniture assembly, 12-hour work days for demanding clients, utility set-up, waiting for the cable guy, cleaning, car shopping, holding my breath that I'll get an actual phone call from Ja, trying to locate a legit hair stylist, and armadillos.

When I left the island to hit Washington and arrange for the moving company to transport our worldly possessions 3,200 miles to southern Florida, I had no idea how much I'd come to depend on the little bit of stability I had on the MFI. For example, if I was locked out of my postage stamp sized apartment I could walk over to campus knowing that eventually I'd see my husband leaving an afternoon study session. Not the case in SoFlo.

I arrived at the rental house late in the afternoon on July 4 assuming that I could use the lockbox code the realtor had given me to get inside. No lockbox. I ended up using the garage code the previous tenant had mentioned in passing and lucked out because when they moved they left the door from the garage to the house unlocked. I figured ME kicking in a window would A. be a cross between Steve Carrell in 'Get Smart' & Rowan Atkinson in 'Mr. Bean' and B. land me in jail and there is absolutely no chance of a legit hairdo in the pokey. Two phone calls and one scathing e-mail later - a NEW realtor showed up to let me into the house.  

Within the first 48-hours in the rental, I'd used my new broom to sweep a black snake smaller than a ruler and a frog bigger than my fist out of the garage.  I'd also pummeled a Huntsmen spider with a body the size of a quarter with my running shoe. It was an old shoe, no need to wear it again.  My ewww-dometer was creeping up at lightning speed. Still - I had running water, electricity, internet (via the network cable since I left the Wifi on the island), shopping, highways, Starbucks, and cable... just no TV.

I'd been sleeping on the couch purchased from the previous renter and Grey was camped out on the floor of his room since we had no furniture. Around 2 or 3 one morning I could hear the cat rattling blinds in the master bedroom and making a noise akin to Animal Planet Big Cats. I shuffled into the master bedroom ready to kill The Magster when I noticed, through the horribly skewed blinds, that something was IN our backyard. The motion lights hit it at just the right angle that I swore it was something from 'Jurassic Park' - only smaller and in my yard and REAL. What. The. Frak.  I slowly walked toward the sliding glass door while straining to get a better look at my late night visitor.  Sitting on my heels, I put my hands up on the glass like binoculars hoping to get a better look. The animal moved; I screamed.  Falling backwards I pulled the blinds down, scared the cat, and cut the top of my foot open. Are you effing kidding me? Could this experience get any more ludicrous? I lose my ish over an armadillo?!? How in the world did my kid NOT wake up?   Wide awake with 2 Band-Aids glued to the top of my foot. Damn.  Stranded because I hadn't made an effort to purchase chardonnay. Double damn. Whatevs - I could do some more unpacking and organizing.

To date my work experience consisted of me leaning against the wall with my laptop propped on a pillow and resting on my knees. My back was killing me. Pacing the house I came up with a solution - I'd use Grey's piano bench as my desk and the new stepstool as a chair. Setting up my new 'office', I tried out the digs. Not bad. Not awesome, but definitely better than my butt falling asleep every hour on the hour. MacGyver’d that biznass!

Mood Lighting & Free Condoms

Standing in the lavatory of the Boeing 737-800 bound for Toronto, the funky perfumed water smell barely registered. What did cause a severe impact to my psyche was the extreme lighting in said loo. Dear gawd! After washing my hands I'd looked up and was literally entranced by my wrinkles.  I stood staring into the mirror and counted the creases in my forehead. I needed to get out of there. Back in my seat a quick call button to the flight attendant and I was holding a chardonnay. Three times over.

I breezed through Canadian Customs and headed toward the blue bus that would take me to Terminal 1 of Toronto's Pearson International Airport. I was hustling to make my third flight of the day for my conversion in Prince Edward Island and my last trip to this client site from the island.  Sitting next to a woman humming and rocking her head, I balanced my backpack and roller bag and thought about the past few days in St. Maarten.

Would I miss the island? Sure. The crystalline water and white sandy beaches were beyond measure. I'd also made some friends I would genuinely be sad not to see on a regular basis.  Would I miss the traffic? Negative, Ghostrider. The unexpected flair like receiving free condoms, complete with diagram, while filling up at the local petrol station? <Crickets> 

My sister-in-law, Ashley, was staying with us on the island until the end of June when we'd leave, sans Jameson, to head State side. Out on an epic errand run, we'd stopped at the gas station just before Sandy Ground.  I paid and tipped the attendant while Ash and I waited in the car venting about island traffic and how a simple grocery run was going to take 2 hours instead of 15 minutes.

"Fill it up," said the attendant.  I leaned out the window smiling and thanked him.

"I have something I want to give," he continued, "but I'm not sure you'll like."  He grinned. Really big.

I paused, looked at Ash, and looked back at the attendant. "A high five?" I asked.

He laughed, told me no, then turned around. I looked back at Ash, worried.

"Here," he said while pushing a basket full of blue squares at me, "take one and fill it up." He laughed. Okaaaayyyy... weirdness. 

"I'm going to take two, okay? One for each of us," I told the attendant and grabbed a couple of the blue squares emblazoned with a gold gas pump and the words 'Fill It Up'.  I turned and handed one to Ash.

Before I had a chance to open the packet she said, "Oh. My. Word."  I looked over and I saw a condom inside the package that she'd opened.  And just in case we weren't sure what the condom was for, there was a handy dandy diagram on the inside of the packet.

Ship Just Got Real

2 months. Actually, it had been 59 days because February was a short month but I was pretty sure Taffi didn't want to argue the details. TomAto, tomAHto and all that.  I'd taken on 3 more clients in Toronto, had been regularly attending Grey's soccer and swim matches, maintaining the house, and trying like hell to enjoy the last few months we had on the island. I had also not responded to e-mails or calls for almost 2 months.  My bad choices elicited screams from Taff once I'd called her back.

"Shit! Shit! Shit! Do you know I honestly thought you were dead?" Taffi screamed so loud I yanked the headphones out of my ears. "I mean, thank gawd for The Zuck. Without Facebook I'd be sitting on my ass assuming you were face down in a ditch or shacked up with a Frenchie."

A Frenchie? Oh... the Gendarmerie. Eye candy in the form of muscles, machine guns, and the language of love. Was there anything about this island Taffi hadn't Googled?

"You even missed my birthday. Bitch. I'd disown you if you if you weren't godparent to my kid. That and you share my fondness of Lou's. Speaking of which - have you even looked on the F.B. to see them? They're so yummy they reek!"

Just like that we were back to neutral ground. A good pair of Louboutin's can do that to a person.

"OK. A, yes I saw your shoes. Know that I'm jealous and even a little depressed. There is not a place on this island I'd consider wearing a pair of Lou's. And B, I did miss your birthday but I just e-mailed you a gift card to Nordies. We good?"  I listened to Taff chew her gum and I knew the wheels were turning.

"How much is the gift card?"

"HOOKER! We're on a fixed income. Only one of us working <cough, cough>. You will accept it and move on," I added in my stern mom voice.

"Fine. Spill."

I could hear Taff settle in on the leather couch they had in their media room and knew I had her full attention. I wasn't sure where to begin. I wanted to tell her about the Heineken Regatta and the extra 10,000 people on the island. I also wanted to tell her that I'd actually been taking 30 minutes out of 3 work days to sit at the pool to try and 'relax' as Jameson had been suggesting. But, that's not where the conversation went.

"So - have you been to campus lately? I looked online and there is a new building or some shit. What's that about?" Oh, goodie! I get talk about Jameson's school. Blick.

"Yeah, apparently they dumped a bunch of money into a new building. It'll have, like, fake patient rooms where students can practice their interviewing skills and I think a bigger anatomy lab -"

"Oh! New slice and dice. Kosher."

"GROSS! Do not use the word Kosher while talking about the anatomy lab?"
"Boring. Next," Taffi prodded.

I leaned back in the office chair charmingly held together with Gorilla tape and tried to think of something fun to tell Taff so we could steer clear of all things shopping.

"Taff, you've seen 'The Goonies', right?"

"What the junk?" She laughed. "It's a freaking rite of passage. Of course I've seen it. Your point?"

"Well," I began, "The other day I was walking back from selling a bag of hangers to a student -"

"Hold up," she interrupted. Again.  "Explain."

"We have a ton of shit in our house we're selling because we're moving in a few months. I had a bag of hangers. A kid bought them for 5 bucks. Swingin' deal, by the way. I bought those at Ace for like $30."

"Damn.  30? Did you feel violated? That's a crime."

"Yes. Can I go on?"

"Goonies. Run with it," Taff chirped.

I started again, "So, I'm walking back from campus. Before you ask, walking still sucks. I've had the boot off for 5 weeks and I'm still adjusting. More on that in a sec. Goonies."

"Yes, Mouth, Goonies. Get on with it," I heard her sigh and some ice clinking. She was having an after work cocktail.

Hmm... should I open a new bottle of chardonnay to finish this story? Yes. That's a definite yes. I got up from the desk chair and headed to the kitchen.  Well, it would be a kitchen if it wasn't more fitting to be a galley on a sailboat. Cramped home living and lack of privacy was getting on my nerves. Grabbing a striped coffee mug from the cupboard and the Barefoot from the fridge, I continued with my story.

"So I'm walking home and it must have been in between classes or something because there were a bunch of students walking around and a ton of traffic. I'm not fast on my feet at all, so I literally have to wait for there to be zero cars coming in order to cross. I'm standing there by the coffee shop -"

"Same shop where the chic told you to stop working since you were married to an almost doc?"

"The very same. I really liked that dress but, now I'll never wear it. She ruined Ann Taylor navy dresses and skirts. Anyhoo, I'm waiting for the cars to stop and this teacher walks up and is waiting beside me with a student. I can hear them talking about 'The Goonies'."

"Wait - who was the teacher?"

"No effing clue," I answered and then swallowed some chardonnay. Ahh... life was good. 

"So I hear this guy talking to this student. The kid was probably early 20's. He looked like he belonged in high school.  I mean, his skin was so smooth he looked like a legit Botox ad. The instructor, MD, PhD, whatever was telling this kid that 'Chunk' probably had Type 1 diabetes."

"Truffle Shuffle. OK, I can see that," Taff tacked on.

"Right. So junior looks up at instructor dude and asks him who is Chunk?"

"Shut. Up."

"I KNOW! Blown away," I replied and sat in silence.  The ice in Taff's glass clinked again and I drank more chardonnay.

Mental checklist:  16 days until semester break. Low season has officially started. Stocking up on chardonnay will not be an issue.

Rock Liebster!

Stop the presses! Hold the phone! Mrs. Dr. Looze over at http://whenlifegivesyoumedicinemakemartinis.com/ nominated me for a 'Liebster Award'. Yeah, I'd totally never heard of it either. I did Google, Wiki, Bing and Yahoo it and was left unsatisfied, similar to the effect Ja's med school has on my social calendar.

The 'Liebster', which means darling or beloved (thank you Frau Gold and sophomore high school German), is an award/gift given to you by another blogger who enjoys reading your blog and has been inspired.  I truly hope I haven't inspired Mrs. Dr. Looze to drink more due to my fondness of chardonnay.  I'd say the Rules of Engagement are a bit iffy since I've seen a smattering of details on the net, but I'm going to fly with what MDL had on her page. 

That's How We Roll in Liebster Land:

A.  Thank the person who nominated you!
B.  The Nominee must list 11 statements about her/himself.
C.  The Nominee must answer the 11 questions the Nominator asked.
D.  The Nominee must nominate 11 others (and you have to TELL them they've been nominated).


Eleven Bits & Bites about Kel (that's me, the author of this blog):

1. I don't believe the Pringle should really be classified as a potato chip.
2.  Charles Grodin and Oliver Platt are 2 of my all time faves in movie-land.
3.  I say "2 minutes, Turkish" to my hubs all the time even though he NEVER remembers that Jason Stathom said it in 'Snatch'. Let this be a lesson to you - med school kills the FUN brain cells.
4.  There is never enough coffee. Never.
5.  I toss and turn at night if the kitchen isn't clean when I go to bed.
6.  If I could move to London, England tomorrow I would. Wait! Not true - I'd move today.
7.  I fat finger on the iPhone 5 all of the time.
8.  I miss going into an office everyday simply because I miss my work wardrobe.
9.  No matter what people say, the Wedge and the Platform are 2 different shoes. I find this easy to understand and am irritated when people don't get it.
10.  People who haven't seen the original 'Star Wars' fall into two categories: infant or dead.
11.  When I talk about Coach I feel like the character Stuart MacKenzie in 'So I Married an Axe Murderer'. I think the website emits an addictive chemical, just like KFC.

Questions for ME from Mrs. Dr. Looze:

1. Why did you start blogging?
Boredom, the need to document our adventures in a tropical "paradise", my incessant need to do 15 things at one time.
2. If you could be any animal in the world what would you pick and why?
OK - this is a difficult question. Animals lick their own butts and I think that's gross. Actually, nature is pretty gross to me even though technically we are all nature. So... I'm going to say a red blood cell so I can multiply and then have someone do my hair.
3. What would you choose for your last meal on earth?
Wouldn't be eating a last meal, I'd be drinking a chardonnay.
4. What’s your middle name?
I don't have a middle name on the blog.
5. If you could plan out every day of your life for the next 5 years would you?
Um... I do that now. I'm a planner and a list maker.
6. What is your favorite city in America?
Chi Town, baby!!
7. What is your biggest downfall?
See number 5. It's a gift and a curse.
8. What is your best attribute?
My ability to separate business and friendship.
9. If a movie was made about you who would play you?
I can't answer this. Everyone in Hollywood has great hair, skin, and has a 24/7 personal trainer. I do not. It's like asking who the next president will be if only given 2 options. Wait... we already did that.
10. What is your favorite article of clothing that you own?
My black peep-toe wedges that I purchased just before breaking my foot. Sigh...
11. If you had to pick, what is one thing you would change about your appearance?
Thicker eyelashes. Maybelline makes a killer mascara, but it would be cool if I didn't need so much help.

Questions for my Liebster Nominees:

1.  What color is your toothbrush?
2.  Kindle or Paperback?
3.  List 5 cities in South America without looking online or in an Atlas.
4.  Did you watch 'Sesame Street' as a child?
5.  Do you recycle?
6.  If you had to pick between yard work and cleaning house, which would you pick?
7.  Do you know who won any of the Nobel Prizes awarded in 2012 without looking? If so, list at least one.
8.  CNN or Fox News?
9.  Cat person or a dog person?
10.  Name one person who has influenced your food choices in the past month.
11.  Filet mignon, seared mahi mahi or chicken breast?

And the Liebster goes to:

www.fakehousewifeofkansascity.com/

http://benjaminasimpson.com/

http://laurielondonbooks.com/weblog/

www.mombloggersclub.com/

www.sowhittywhit.blogspot.com/

http://thegroveadventures.blogspot.co.uk/

http://labcoatsandliabilities.blogspot.com/

www.yourdoctorswife.com/

www.caribbeanmedstudent.com/

http://michellejholm.blogspot.com/

http://trishawrightphotography.blogspot.com/

Honey Badger

When I was in grade school my mom would take my brother and I over to my grandparents house so she could run errands without 2 kids in tow.  My brother and I would park it on the carpet in front of the 22-inch wood paneled monster of a tube and watch 'Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom'.  If we were lucky, my grandma would stuff us full of pineapple upside down cake right before the show. I'm sure that syrupy sweet cake was the catalyst to my fondness for chardonnay. Fast forward 30'ish years and 30 million views and you've got YouTube.  Instead of Marlin Perkins, it's Randall. Google and YouTube had replaced 'Wild Kindgom' as my oracle for animal and bug information.

Before we moved to St. Maarten, I had religiously searched the internet for any kind of wildlife. Living in the rain covered, rat, and Wolf Spider infested Pacific Northwest had increased my fear of anything creepy and crawly.  On my search, I'd found there were no documented snakes, but plenty of lizards. I'd discovered there were all kinds of birds, but not too many spiders. I was fine with all of this until the morning I woke up to find a centipede sleeping on my laptop. My laptop inside our condo and 3-stories up. After YouTube'ing the centipede, I found videos of the same hard-shelled carnivorous beast eating a snake. What. The. Frak. I should have realized just how toxic the insect was when Jameson muttered, "Oh shit!", wouldn't touch it, and was forced to use a butter knife to hold it down and kill it. Ick.

Any misgivings I'd had about nature on this island were truly put to the test in our new condo. Happy as I was with saving 1,200 bucks a month, I was not happy about the crappy screens and glass tilted slats for windows. No matter how much I cleaned and replaced all of the caulking, we had ants. A cockroach the size of my hand visited our kitchen one day, only to find himself squashed and plunked in the trash. I moved the toaster one morning and a lizard darted across the kitchen counter. Jameson had to cover it with a plastic cup and take it outside while I took a Xanax and wondered if 7AM was too early to consider a deep conversation with Robert Mondavi.  I like to appreciate nature from afar - like from my swivelling desk chair while watching the Honey Badger and listening to Randall.

Last night I came downstairs to tell a studying Jameson that I was heading to bed. As I crossed from the stairs to the would-be family room something darted across the floor. I screamed and clamped my hand over my mouth while simultaneously jumping backward.

"WIFE!" Jameson shouted while jumping out of his skin. "What the hell!" He looked up at me, computer on his lap, feet up on the coffee table and annoyance spread across his face.

"There is an ANIMAL in the house. Again. Get up and catch it, " I ordered while bending over to hunt for the lizard on the floor. Our condo was the size of a postage stamp, it couldn't have gone far.

"Uuuuggggh," Jameson audibly sighed and dropped his feet. "An animal? What kind of animal?"

"I thought it was a cockroach, but it's a lizard. Gawd, do we have a mama lizard in the house just breeding these suckers so they can freak me out?"

"Yes, wife," he answered sarcastically.  "That's got to be what it is. A huge mama lizard and not the poor excuse for windows."

Jameson strapped on his headlamp and patiently searched with me for a solid 10-minutes before giving up.

"Babe, I don't have time for this. Sorry. I'm sure it's gone anyway. It probably went back out the same way it came in. I PROMISE you, that lizard is more scared of you than you are of it," he told me while putting away his headlamp and returning to the couch.

"Wait!  We can't go to bed and just leave the lizard in the house!"

"Welllllll....," Jameson drew out, "WE aren't going to bed. YOU are going to bed. I'm studying."

I turned around and stormed up the stairs. How could I go to sleep with a lizard roaming free in the house? I plopped on the bed, grabbed my iPhone and got on Skype with Jameson's work wife, Holly. We messaged back and forth for a few minutes, all the while me explaining my completely irrational fear that I couldn't sleep because the lizard may crawl into the bed or even worse, into my mouth and choke me. Even though I couldn't hear Holly when she responded to my cries for help regarding Godzilla, I'm sure she was secretly mocking me.

The following morning after a fitful 4-hours of sleep courtesy of Tylenol PM, I was in the kitchen stirring creamer into Jameson's coffee and mulling over how a lizard could still be in the house while my cat did nothing. I reasoned that it truly must have left and walked out of the kitchen carrying Jamesons coffee cup. I froze in front of the coat rack. There, perched on a black backpack, was the lizard. That little mother trucker!

"Ja!" I shouted not moving from my vantage point, "It's still here. Get over here quick while I watch it!"

Jameson sighed. Seriously? Am I asking too much for him to stop studying and remove nature from our home? Walking up to me he asked, "OK, where?"

I turned him around and pointed to the offender sitting on his backpack.

"That is what you were worried about?" He looked at me now and held back laughter.

"Hey! Do NOT make fun of me. You told me it was gone. Well, clearly it's not gone. Now get it out of here!"

I walked over to the sliding glass door, unlocked it, and waited for Jameson to rid our home of Godzilla. He simply took the backpack off the coat rack, walked outside and set the backpack on the ground while the lizard walked right off. Jameson then took a picture with his phone and posted it on my Facebook page so all of my friends could see the dangerous 'Godzilla'. What was his deal? This situation was legit!

Mental Checklist: Maggie the cat is not only lazy but completely inadequate for hunting and killing.  Look into motion detectors or those super high frequency rodent repellent devices.

Motownphilly Back Again!

Shortly after take off and before we were allowed to use electronic devices, I swapped out my Nike for a moon boot. Since my flight into Miami had no seats in first class, I was sitting in an Exit Row.  Illegally in airline terms.  In order to actually board the plane I was told by the agent to put on a shoe. So - shoe on, board plane, shoe off, moon boot on. Easy. If the plane went down I'd have the door open faster than the blue hairs sharing the row with me.

Seated immediately to my left on the other aisle seat and in a serious funk was a former AUC student. I say former because I overheard her telling the flight attendant the reason for her tears was because she'd failed all of her First Blocks and was leaving the island. Her parents had pulled the plug on her 'financial aid'. Damn.

Our flight reached cruising altitude and the movie 'Pitch Perfect' began to play.  OK, I love this movie. I think it's witty and when I'm at home I listen to the soundtrack to do my ab workout. I would have been singing along, off key of course, except I didn't want to call attention to my boot in the Exit Row. My AUC neighbor laughed along with the movie. She's obviously not as dumb as the Block Exams made her feel.  We started chatting it up about the movie and the conversation took a strange turn when I mentioned something about the 'Foot Notes', a group in the movie.

"That kid singing in the front of the 'Foot Notes..." I started.

"Oh my gawd! That was one of the best parts," she jumped in.

"Totally agree!  Love, love, love the dancing in that part. Anyway, that kid in the front totally reminds me of prime time Bobby Brown."

"Oh!" She pounced, suddenly animated.  "I love her foundation. It's like, the only kind I buy."

"What?"  I asked, momentarily halted. Then I got with the program. "Ohhhhh, you mean Bobbi Brown cosmetics. I'm talking about Bobby Brown, the singer."

I stared at a look of confusion and raised eyebrows.

"You know, Bobby Brown? He was a singer in the 80's. He used to be in that group 'New Edition', they sang 'Cool it Now'. Any of this sound vaguely familiar?"

Nothing.  Wow.

"OK, have you heard of Whitney Houston?"

"Yeah," she answered in a pissy tone and rolling eyes. If Whitney was so obvious, how had she not heard of Bobby?

"Whitney was married to Bobby.  His face was all over the media when she died last year. I'm sure you've seen him."

"Oh. He was famous because they got married. Did he sing with her?"

I channeled my inner-Yoda. Know this, she does not.

"Not that you'll need any of this info for a job application," following up on our previous discussion about her looking for a job when she got home, "but you may need it for Jeopardy."  I smiled and continued, "Bobby Brown was in a group called New Edition. He also had a solo career.  There were other groups like Boyz II Men, ABC, or Another Bad Creation, and Bel Biv Devoe. All great 80's music. Oh, and I guess like early 90's. You should look it up on iTunes."

I was busy in the land of nostalgia and my neighbor was soaking up what I'd told her. Or - she was trying to figure out how to politely ignore me. Probably both. Maybe.

Rocket Fanta

"Wife! Where is my coffee cup?" Jameson shouted up the stairs.  He was heading to campus to register for the next semesters classes and was delayed due to lack of mobile caffeine.

"The coffee cups are in the cupboard where they always are. Are you even looking or do you want me to come down there?"  Parked on our bed with my foot elevated and computer in my lap, the thought of walking down the stairs wasn't pleasant.  To say I had to walk "downstairs" was kind of a joke, anyway. Our bedroom was in the loft immediately above the kitchen in the minuscule apartment we'd moved into.  We were short on space but large on extra cash; 8 more months of Lilliputian living space.

"It's not here and I need to go drop off Grey's tuition statement before I register."

I made my way down the curving staircase.  Twelve mismatched steps and no spills, this was turning out to be a banner day!  My mobility in the 4.2 pound moon boot had  improved greatly, but it was still annoying. Opening the kitchen cupboard I turned to Jameson, pointed and said, "Uummmm... here."

"Ugh," he pushed back from the counter, "Not those. The one I use to go to class."

"Oh.  The travel mugs. You should have said 'travel mugs'. Those are over here," and I opened the cupboard over the stove.

When I was in my early 20's and would go clubbing with my friend Elizabeth (ironic much?), I'd listen to songs and sing what I thought the lyrics were.  Rocket fanta instead of 'rockin' the casbah', you can curl your own hair instead of 'you can go your own way' and my favorite: don't call it a comeback, I've got big ears instead of 'don't call it a comeback, I've been here for years' by one LL Cool J.  Island life was mocking me by keeping things lost in translation.

Our island time was just under the 8 month mark and I'd started selling our excess wares. A DVD player, cooler, some island chairs, beach umbrella and travel coffee mugs. The day before I'd been waiting for a student while sitting on the retaining wall of the apartment complex across the street. I was selling 2 reams of printer paper for 15 bucks. OK, not a gold mine but I wouldn't have to pack it and take it back to the States.  While staring at my thighs shaped by too much chardonnay and not enough cardio, I looked up as a couple of girls walk by. I say girls because of the lack of jiggle in skirts so short and tight that I'd consider them to be Spanx and would wear them under a suit when on a client site.

Mental Checklist: Google Jillian Michaels work-outs for geriatrics.

Sigh... I used to look like that.  I also used to think Vanilla Ice sang 'alright stop, cohabitate and listen'.  My buyer walked up breaking my self-pity party.

"That my paper?" asked my buyer.

"Indeed."

"Top. I need these. Gonna pound later," and then he handed me money.

WTF? Am I so old I can't follow the colloquialism of an early 20's dude? Or, is it punk?  Wait - do they say kid now?

"I'm guessing you're happy to have this paper,"  I said pocketing the money.  "I don't know how many pounds it is, but we've only opened this one package so you've pretty much got 2 full reams."

He laughed.

Medical Monday

It's the first Monday of the month.  Click on the shortcut to the right that says "Medical Mondays" to link to other blogs about med school, physician funniness, nursing - anything and everything related to medicine.  To check out my previous posts, click any link under "Posts from the Past".  Happy reading!

Lip Gloss, Elections & Hair! Oh My!

When I was in high school one of my friends had a cordless curling iron; hands down the coolest thing since aerosol AquaNet to a child of the 80's. I'll admit, I had iron envy.  In college I'd mastered teasing my hair and an all-around movement with my arm to thoroughly coat my tresses. I also became obsessed with scrunchies. One of the girls on the dance team had scrunchies in every imaginable color.  Enter the green monster.  As a woman in my late 30's (since I REFUSE to succumb to the early 40's movement), I was spending my free-time pining away for a time when I could eat a glazed doughnut without doing 500 crunches to counter-balance the caloric intake, the Louboutin Rolando pump, BBC programming and the seamless forehead of a 23-year old.  In my progressed age I noticed the wrinkle-free kids that surrounded us on this island had a different set of political ideals and they wore election opinions on their sleeves. This was the current topic of choice for Taffi and I during our weekly Skype IM session.

MedSchoolMama:  taff! stop sending me photos of your shoes, your car and your house. it makes me hate you.

LaffyTaffy:  secretly?

MedSchoolMama:  no bish!  the secret is OUT! stop b/f i have max take away the amex!

LaffyTaffy:  sometimes i hate YOU and then i remember that you left your lou's here and it makes it all okay. how goes the island? did jameson run for student body or government or whatever the hell you call it in med school?

MedSchooMama:  no - totally bagged on that suggestion. i think he was nauseous just thinking about it. not enough time, too much drama. mostly the drama.

LaffyTaffy:  speaking of drama - WTF is up with romney's jeans? wardrobe guy is an imbecile. who let's their candidate go out in mom jeans. dear gawd!

MedSchoolMama: mom jeans? um..... what about the bigger issue of healthcare?

LaffyTaffy:  OMG - i heard at someone at work say botox and other cosmetics are covered with omahacare!!!! do i need to mention the 11's????

MedSchooMama:  it's OBAMAcare, not omaha! wtf?

LaffyTaffy:  whatevs. if you come into town i'll take you to my derm and we can fix your wrinkles. i KNOW you're self conscious surrounded by so much youth.

MedSchooMama:  i heard the "youth" around here talking about legalizing pot across the nation and if the laws would apply to them HERE if they brought a bag with them when they flew back to the island post christmas break.

LaffyTaffy:  euphoria!  a world with legal taxable ditchweed and juviderm for free

MedSchoolMama:  gotta run. conf call. touch my shoes and die a slow painful death (remember the time you got the bad wax)

LaffyTaffy:  love you bish!  OMAHA RAMEN NOODLE 2012

MedSchooMama:  snap. crackle. and pop. you are drinking. that was a robert mondavi comment. and at noon your time. hellfire - are you &  max having a nooner??? ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...............  signing off.