A Work in Progress

I love facebook, but it has its drawbacks, as we all know. Poised to turn 30, it is my generation whom has taken over this free version of classmates.com and made it what it is today: a place where we can all annoy each other based on accomplishments, vacations, jobs, spouses, and babies. I’ve seen pictures of babies I will never meet, weddings I didn’t attend, and vacations I didn’t go on. It’s really rather insane. While I love hearing about everyone’s successes and accomplishments, seeing your vacation pictures and keeping up with kids I rarely see, sometimes it’s all too much. Now I know that I’m guilty of too many pictures, too many meaningless updates, and too many ‘wish you were here’ posts, but...I don’t know, I’m empowered to complain. Here’s a list of things I’d consider banning if I were in charge of anything. 1. Baby development pictures. I know you’re excited about your baby and you should be! I just don’t want to see every moment of its gestation. Especial...

I recently acquired what I call my ‘pirate tooth,’ a crown of gold atop a, now humiliated molar. It was very expensive, so I like to show it off. It can’t be seen unless I pull my cheek back, so showing it off is difficult and gross. But all will appreciate my hard earned tooth! I have one, unrelated half crooked tooth in my mouth and when I first met my new dentist, she looked at me carefully from each side and then determined that the side of my smile without the offending tooth was my “better side.” Well, thank you, that is the angle used in all of my photo shoots. Then she suggested that I get invisalign for my one semi-crooked tooth which I entertained for a second before she said it was $4000. Then I laughed for five minutes, but what if I had two “better sides”? Anyway, back to the pirate tooth. I found the whole thing traumatic as I hate all things teeth and dentistry. Like many people, I have an irrational anxiety at the dentist. I guess I should stop hiding my anxi...

Already I am behind and it is only the 10th day of the year. I have not come up with any topics for my column writing idea, so I am taking suggestions. Give me a topic and I'll bore you with it.  For free! I am making other progress in re-uping my membership with the red cross and making an honest attempt to be more dedicated to the organization. Work is not a good excuse to miss meetings. That is what I've decided. I mean, I'll alter my schedule for less important things, so why not them? Also, I will just take their classes. I need to get over myself and just do it instead of thinking I am overqualified because I am not. There is always learning to be done and if some of their classes are redundant: so be it. Resolve! I have some at this moment! I have also booked flights for my first very far trip in almost three years.  I'll be visiting dear friends in the Pacific Northwest before they leave their post.  I am super stoked and relish in the preparation....

I bet that you thought I forgot to blog today. Well, I didn't.  I purposefully waited until 9pm so as to keep you guessing.  I have not neglected any social media today.  In fact, it is a momentous day as it is the day I added pics to facebook, wrote a blog post, and joined twitter.  I know, I know.  Don't give in to the man!  Twitter?  Isn't that yesterdays myspace?  Isn't that for aging actors to connect with the young folk?  Isn't that just another way for everyone to annoy all of their acquaintances with superfluous updates about their mundane lives?  Yes to all!  Well, mostly all.  I was inspired by an improv peep to get on over and tweet like a bird of some sort.  I am going to reserve my 140 characters for charming and amusing insights into my every day life.  I know no one cares, but having amassed a whopping 5 followers in my first 24 hours, I am inspired.  I will be publishing a book of my clever tweet...

Something that boggles me, though I use anyway, is the self checkout at the grocery store.  Firstly, why am I doing more work while someone is standing ten feet away who will do it for me?  I'm not getting paid by the store to check myself out.  I'm not even getting a discount. I've used the self check out even when regular check outs are available.  Why?  Probably because my reclusive tendencies are increasing and it's one less human I have to interact with.  But, at the same time, I hate that check out robot.  Hate her. All of the things I hate about her make me look crazy. Probably because recently I have have found myself talking back to her. "Thank you for using self check out.  Please scan your member card."  She starts already. "Why are you shouting at me.  Can't you see I'm digging my card out of my wallet?  And don't thank me.  Pay me instead." Just as I fish the card out, she repeats "Please scan your member card...

One of the myths of EMS is that clean underwear is required before calling. 'Be sure to put on clean underwear in case you're in an accident!' your mother may advise. But, to be fair, I am not the least bit interested in the contents or quality of your underwear. That said, we do appreciate the presence of underwear, as opposed to none at all. And yeah, I've seen plenty of underwear, and most of it is extremely forgettable. But, I did hear a good story lately. They were called to a motorcycle accident. The patient had stopped short and layed the bike over. Annoyingly, the weight of the bike had snapped his leg. They arrived to find him sprawled on the ground cursing between clenched teeth, clearly trying to master his pain with careful breathing. After assessing the patient and getting the backboard ready, it was time to cut his pants off to get a good look at the leg and likely set it with a traction splint. The crew were met with loud objections from the ...

When I ride my bike on the road, I wear a high-vis vest, I have a blinking tailight, and I chose roads very carefully based on speed limit, shoulder width, and of course, hilliness. I ride in the road as that is what I am supposed to do. I obey traffic laws and signal my intent at intersections. This morning, while riding along, minding my own business, I was honked at. Confused, I looked over and saw a woman in a van nobly gesturing to me and then forcefully pointing at the parallel sidewalk.  Her implication was clear that she wanted me to be on the sidewalk despite my shoulder riding and despite the fact that she had the width of two lanes in which to get around me.  I immediately went crazy, at least by my standards, and shouted at her.  I remember repeating "no" quite a bit, and then pointed to myself and shouting "I am a vehicle!"  I didn't even curse, which was surprising to me, and I didn't do any rude gestures in her direction. Despite my anger...

I am a big fan of 'I Love Lucy' it is simply...great. In one episode, in an attempt to buy time, Lucy advises her three besties to chew their food 25 times before swallowing. Her time wasting was futile, of course, but the advice wasn't half bad. We were called to a guy who was throwing up blood. We arrived, and he was right in the front room. He looked up from a small trash can and said, "I'm throwing up blood." and before I could inquire further, he proved it by spraying bright red blood all over the interior of the can. "Well, yes you are. Can you walk outside with us?" He followed us to the ambulance where the plot thickened. He had been eating steak when suddenly he got a sharp pain in his chest and began throwing up bright red blood. Without any other associated symptoms or history, (allegedly not a drinker) I was puzzled. So, we did what we do best and took him to the hospital. I got a rare follow up on this patient. In the O...

For the past few weeks, I've been taking an improv class.  I took it because, well, I like to subscribe to the adage of 'do something that scares you...every once in a while'.  It goes something like that.  Thanks to this class, I have done something that scares me at least once a week.  I have no background in 'the stage' nor have I recently undertaken any public speaking challenges or anything of that sort.  Further, I am not that funny.  So, taking an improv course seemed like a great idea! It's a small class of nine, I think, and they are all wicked smart.  And quick.  The two characteristics that are the basis of impov.  Smart and quick. But I'm not too bad.  I think probably because we have an audience of one.  We are supposed to do a 'show' at the end of the sememster for friends and family.  I worry that with an audience of any number greater than one, I will be as good as Michael Scott . Outside of that future terro...

I've learned a few things from my patients in recent weeks. Firstly, dreams can be intense.  At 4 in the morning, my patient had a dream that he was under attack.  His attackers had left for some reason, but were headed back at any time. The logical conclusion was for him to exit the building.  Through the window.  This was probably a great plan except that he was on the second floor.  No one told his dream self this and by the time he realized it, it was too late.  Wide awake, broken, and on the freezing sidewalk below, he had to crawl to a neighbors house, up the porch and knock on the door until they woke up.  So, the lesson here is any of the following: Tie yourself to your bed, sleep on the first floor, lock the windows, or carry a cell phone in your pajamas. Secondly, and this one is a little more obvious, trees are tall.  Yes, and sometimes if you climb them, especially using big nails driven into the trunk as a ladder, you cal fall out ...

Tonight I went out to dinner.  Well, this afternoon I took the bike to the park for the first ride of the year.  It was marginally successful.  I need to work harder at the gym.  Anyway.  I got home later than I thought, ate some leftovers in a rush and went to a meeting.  It was some pretty good human interaction!  And could give me plenty of things to do in the future.  Anyway.  Afterwards, we went out to dinner.  I was still a little hungry from abbreviated dinner, so off I went.  'Why get something small, when I can get something to have now and take home for tomorrow?'  I said to myself.  It was a nice dinner with plenty left for another meal.  They kindly gave me a box, and a bag too.  I carefully scraped my plate into the box and put it in the bag and placed it right in front of me so I wouldn't forget to take it home. Well, by now, we all know the end of this story.  It should be no surprise to any ...

I have renewed my efforts in online dating as of late. I've joined a free site that a friend recommended and I like it so far mostly because it is free, but also because it really seems like they are putting an effort into matching you with acceptable people. This recent foray has led me to create part 2 of my guide to online dating. I feel that many profile makers need a coach or a guide to follow to increase their chance of success. Despite my wild non-success, I still feel I can dole out some advice. I feel that in my absence from online dating, the weirdness has gotten worse. Now, I know you should be yourself and all that and not put up a false front, but sometimes we just need to do a better job at hiding our crazy. Everyone does it. It's quite a phenomena that we all walk around making vain attempts to look normal. We are not. No one is. That being said, women want normal guys, (as far as I know) and the more crazy you reveal in your profile, the less succes...

I think it may be safe to say that a class reunion is one of the more strange social situations one can encounter. It is an evening full of seeing people who look vaguely familiar and, in my case, completely blanking on their name. I really should have reviewed the yearbook before I came. But instead, I went with my closest friend from high school and we relied on eachother to ID people. And a number of the people we came up empty on. I guess that's typical after ten years and hundreds of classmates. But you can't help feeling like a jerk when someone shouts "OMG, Ellie, how are you?!" after you spent five whole minutes sitting in the corner trying to remember their name. The whole thing brought me back and I should have panicked about what to wear far sooner than I did. As I went to my fallback stores and found nothing, I began to realize that I am as in touch with fashion and trends now as I was ten years ago. I felt just as lost choosing what to wear to ev...

I had collected a handful of trash in my gloved hand and went to take it off so that the trash would be trapped inside.  The stupid cheap glove ripped though and all of the trash spilled back onto the floor.  'Oh...you!'  My EMT suggested I grab a few pairs of their black gloves, as they are far superior. 'Oh, I love the black gloves, they make it look like I'm a tattoo artist.' This piqued my patients interest and we got to talking about tattoos.  'Do you have any?' I asked her, fully expecting a no. 'I do' she answered confidently 'Oh, where is it? If you don't mind.' There was a short pause and she lowered her voice 'On the top of my breast.' 'Ooh! Scandalous! What is it?' 'Well,' she answered seriously, 'It was a hummingbird. But now it looks more like a bald eagle.' There was a pregnant pause as my parner couldn't see the mischevious glint in her deadpan face. Unable to decide if she shou...

I was happy to end on part 9, but the other day, a thought popped into my head, and my last Coventry story begged to be told. On to an even 10! My last British stereotype/perhaps actual real trait, is that of emotion. Or, the lack thereof. Good old 'stiff upper lip' and all that. Don't get panicked, or sad, or worried; wash it all down to an unreachable place with a cup of tea. Now, that sounds harsh! Everyone I met seemed perfectly normal, well adjusted, and happy to wear their hearts on their sleeves. Well, mostly. I think a lot of people are like me and play their emotions very close to the chest. Can't fault them for that. The one time I felt the stiff upper lip attitude was when I found myself crying in public. Again. After an amazing going away party hosted by the best friends I could have shared this whole experience with, I found myself faced with my last day in Coventry. It was much like any last day of higher education, strange, emotional, and diff...

Fes was our first foray into a large Moroccan city and it didn't disappoint.  We stopped first at a pottery where we saw them throwing Tagines (the dish of the national dish) and more importantly (or dear to my heart) they were making the most beautiful mosaic tables I'd seen.  The work was so labor intensive and amazing I could have stayed all day watching them make them. After a couple of other stops at an overlook and the royal palace, we headed into the Medina (or old part of town) where an enormous variety of goods, meats, and materials can be purchased.  Fes was founded in 789 and still boasts the oldest functioning university, located right in the city center.  We were led through the souks (market stalls) in the medina as there are thousands of roads in this area that are largely unmarked and very narrow. It was a feast for the eyes, ears, and nose to wander through the medina here.  We saw many, many merchants selling textiles, leather, meat, food, fre...

Roundup! What's with having to press a button to get out of a building. I’m pretty sure this is just to make foreigners (or just me) look stupid. Charitably funded air ambulances are simply a brilliant idea. The thought of not having to pay taxes toward them, and that insurance companies would not be billed $10,000 every time I flew someone at work is simply heart-warming.  Support your local air ambulance! I love that everyone here has the same ring tone. It is particularly amusing on the train when the Nokia do-do-do-do starts and everyone looks around while patting their pockets or digging through their purses. Hilarious. Even better is the confident person who immediately says 'it can't be me' and does nothing. It always turns out that it's their phone that is ringing. And it always turns out that that person is me. Things would be a lot easier for foreigners if they didn't use A4 size paper here. It's off by just enough that I cannot eas...

I really want to get maybe, 1000 of my closest friends together and put them in a queue to nowhere through an English city center. I just want to see if people will join a random line with no discernible beginning or destination. Every few minutes, the person at the 'front' could move up a few steps, and all will follow, but really they are waiting for nothing. I hypothesise that this would work. People would join the queue, then feel too silly after a few minutes to ask just what they were queuing for. How long could that go on? UK sociologists: a challenge. But the British queuing thing is true, and most Brits will admit to it. It makes things very orderly, which I enjoy. It is mostly clearly seen at the cash machine where everyone is very respectful of PIN protection. I have only seen queue confusion at the market where the politeness will make anyone crazy with unending 'You go' 'No, you go.' 'Really, you were here first.' 'Are you sur...

Few things reveal cultural differences and distinctions more than alcoholic beverages and their consumption. There is nothing more British than a pint of real ale. Real ale is a phenomenon to me, each with a different taste, color, and origin. There are so many, most pubs have a couple standard options and a rotation of several others.  When I go to the pub, I just pick one at random and hope for the best. This tact hasn't let me down! I guess I can clarify that a 'real ale' or cask ale uses traditional ingredients, is fermented in the same container it is dispensed from, and no CO2 is added. This mostly means that each brew tastes distinctive and it doesn't come out of a regular tap, but has to be manually pumped from the cask. They are brewed all over the country (and world) and each brewery has its own flavors and secret recipes. Basically, a lager, is a lager, is a lager, as I was wisely told, and a cask ale is always different and usually always good. Ther...

When I think of British stereotypes, I think of boring food, rainy days, and bad teeth. Stereotypes are sometimes (usually) based in fact and as an American, I know that the rest of the world thinks that we have excessively large cars, yards, hamburgers, and pretty much everything else is too big too (which is all true). So, I am not surprised when people make jokes about my SUV, our cowboy hats, crappy beer, and the fact that I have the nerve to complain about gas prices. I openly admit to these less than charming characteristics of Americans, and more openly, make fun of them mercilessly. But back to making fun of my adopted country. All Britons will admit that the food is boring, but that doesn't mean it's not good. And yeah, it rains a lot here. In fact, it's raining now. But, it makes the grass green. So, take that. I have recently discovered that most Britons I know don't know that they are mocked in other countries for having bad teeth. I don't know ...