taco.

Carly agreed to dogsit her cousin's best friend Taco this week. As you may recall, Carly is not a lover of any breed of dog which made for quite an entertaining week watching her take care of the third orangutan (just his face) /third polar bear (with a perm)/third donkey (in the tail) as Taco followed her everywhere and did this crazy thing on his hind legs trying to tell her how much he loved her for taking him on leisure walks knowing it would not elicit him going pee on a mailbox or tree or anywhere outside no matter how much the nasty neighbors glared (because he's not potty trained and as the saying goes, you can't teach an old dog new tricks). I guess for Taco, his only trick is dancing. 

carved.

jellyfish.

accidental date.

I have never been on a date, in the traditional sense of the word. Sure, I've had a boyfriend that has taken me out for anniversaries or been on casual double dates in pathetic attempts to hook my friends up with his friends or drank beer and ate pizza with the guys next door but I have never actually went out to dinner-- or even more serious on a day date like for coffee or a museum (because you know it means something extra special when they are willing to take time out of their day to see you) -- with the intention of getting to know a guy you weren't previously friends with to see if they are worthwhile (my new fave word to associate with people of the opposite sex... i.e. if he makes you cry more than you laugh, he would not be deemed worthwhile). The thought of going on dates completely irks me and I was recently reminded of why. When Grams and I were in San Francisco, we decided to take a cable car down to the pier to see the sea lions. We were so proud of ourselves for successfully using our muni passes to access the public transit, we completely forgot to find out where we supposed to get off and were suddenly vastly unwinding through the streets of San Fran. Having no idea what we were even looking for, my dazed and confused expression gave the nice man sitting in front of us the perfect opportunity to strike up a conversation. Next thing I know the local Angelino (one native to the Los Angeles area) was giving me his number and assuring Grams (who he repeatedly mistook as my mother) if I needed anything, he would be happy to help. Thanks, Dad! That's very kind but I normally resort to google or garmin (and not complete strangers) to answer my questions. Well, this accidental date did not stop on the cable car. "The nice man", as Grams kept calling him, waited for us when we got off... of course, he was just going down to the Bay to walk around too... Next thing you know it's 4 hours later and we've walked thirty blocks, shared a banana spilt from the original Ghirardelli Chocolate (because Grams agreed that it would be a "great idea"!) and learned his entire life story through a question and answer session between him and Grams, where I sat mutely at the table ruminating about writing this very blog post. As he licked the chocolate off of his spoon and awkwardly tried to gaze into my eyes, I realized that unless I marry my roommate's brother, I will probably remain single for the rest of my life because the concept of dating totally weirds me out. It perturbs me to talk about myself; to pose some sales pitch as to why I would make a great wife, or even worse, an awesome mother to his kids because he's "single, you know.. and ready to buy a house and settle down." Kudos to you, dude but I'm not interested. Not interested in the fact that you held the door for me (like a real gentleman). Not interested in the fact that you paid for my hot cocoa (with your own, hard earned dollar).  Not interested in the fact that you complimented my hideous $14 touristy San Fran fleece I was forced to purchase when the temp dropped 40 degrees without warning (and probably would find me just as pretty in twenty years wearing scrubs with no make-up on, too). Not interested in the fact that you are a lobbyist for a non-profit org to get housing for the poor (a selfless, humanitarian. classic). Not interested in the fact that you will never leave LA because you "love the culture of a big city" (my main motivation for moving to LA and one my strongest attraction to guys). Not interested in the fact that you're in your late twenties and not afraid of commitment (I've never met a guy who wasn't afraid of having more responsibility than remembering to watch Nip/Tuck every Tuesday). Why wasn't I in the least bit interested in meeting a seemingly decent guy? Why would I rather be single than explore the city of beautiful people I just moved to if it meant having to date to get to know them? I've watched every episode of Sex & the City and still have no interest in joining the twenty-somethings who casually date. I fear I'm going to live a life as lonely as the prisoners exiled to Alcatraz... which was ironically lingering in the distance of our accidental date... 

dream kitchen.

My dream kitchen would consist of….

A coffee pot that brews the perfect blend of beans... not just aromatic water.
A pan that fries... but never burns.
A corkscrew that effortlessly removes the cork... in one piece.
A knife that perfectly slices, dices and chops food... and not my fingers.
A pot that always boils, even when watched.
A cupboard full of all the right ingredients... instead of a freezer full of frozen dinners.
A box of delicious recipes to replace my drawer of take-out menus.
A dining room full of my favorite people visiting over a perfectly prepared meal... a pinch of fabulousness hidden in every bite.


Abandoning the concept of a dream kitchen, I have decided that a dream chef to make my dream kitchen a reality will certainly suffice.

art of relaxation.

If there is one thing I have mastered this summer, it is the art of relaxation. I have never operated well under conditions that left much room to relax so I must admit when I first arrived, I was absolutely terrible at it. At the end of the day (which consisted of sleeping in, playing around the lake, squeezing in a round a golf, and maybe watching an episode of So You Think You Can Dance, before heading back to bed for a solid 11 hours of sleep) I was feeling quite worthless. I would wake up (halfway through the day) and attempt to write a to-do list, which is habit for me as much as it is for some to scratch an itch. When the only bullet the list would consist of is study for my boards, I quickly kicked this habit, replacing it with a much less productive one- embracing the fact that I am unofficially retired and therefore I didn’t actually have a damn thing to do that day, except relax of course! It was very unlike me to spend an entire day stagnant. I felt oddly selfish relishing in all the things that I loved to do day in and out - read, run, and ruminate with Grams. But 6 weeks later of nothing but rest and relaxation, I am a natural at it. I proudly wake up quarter past noon looking forward to the day filled of nothingness that awaits me. I now feel incredibly accomplished at the end of the day having read an entire book, ran an entire four miles and reminisced for an entire twelve hours with Grams. As the end of summer (and consequently my mini retirement) draws near, I’m beginning to wonder if it will be easy to transition back into a bussling routine at the start of my career when I arrive in Los Angeles?

Yard Sale

After packing up our entire house in Gainesville two weeks ago and deciding none of it was age appropriate for the real world, (much to Carly's disapproval) we decided to have a yard sale to get rid of our most prized possessions from college like hot pink end tables, polka dotted plates, and sequinced prom dresses. It was bittersweet selling the fabulous items that the four of us used that made up so many memories while at UF. With the mindset that my entire life has to fit in my car to drive across the country this summer, I got rid of everything that could be replaced once I arrive in L.A.! =)

Parallel Blasphemies.

My perfect driving record was ruined recently when I received my first speeding ticket (it was not exactly the first time I have been pulled over for speeding however!). Because no significant events in my life occur on a small scale, why wouldn't I have been stopped in Georgia where cops are notorious for pulling people over and not letting them out of it doing 88 in a 60 while in a construction zone where speeding fines are doubled?! How much would should an atrocity cost, you might ask? The small sum of $490... or the equivalent of your first born child. When I texted Carly to tell her the horrible news, she was in complete disbelief because she had also just received her first speeding ticket 27 minutes before mine for doing 66 in a 40 thus further supporting my theory that our lives (and our blasphemies!) are parallel.

Bande Abru

Four years ago, we discovered an Ancient Indian tradition right here in Gainesville: eyebrow threading. Also popular in Persia , Bande Abru ("Abru" means eyebrow, and "Band" is the thread) was used to signify when a little girl was turning into a woman. Practitioners use a pure cotton thread. They generally twist the hair and threading pulls out a whole row of hair, as opposed to tweezing where only one single hair is pulled out. Threading is often preferred to tweezing because of the naturally straight lines of hair removed by the thread. It is pulled out from the follicle. Vena is our amazing practitioner! It instantly completely changes the shape of your face and you are always guaranteed perfectly arched eyebrows! (Carly's right brow is threaded)...

You can't have your cake and eat it too.

I had to laugh when I came across this picture of Kara's delicious graduation cake I accidentally indulged in on my drive up to Tallahassee...

Honest to Blog!

December was a very crazy month that flew by way too fast and left little time for blogging! Formals, finals, flights, family and friends! My camera that I have carried everywhere for 2 years, have taken over 5000 pictures with (2000 of which are from backpacking Europe last summer!), and was vital in capturing blog material, broke over Thanksgiving break and left me having to commit the past month to memory single-handedly. But over winter break, I invested in a new camera (which I am thoroughly enjoying... especially the new color accent setting) and have taken hundreds of pix with already!! This last semester of college (which started on Monday) is going to be full of memory-making opportunities that I'm already excited to blog about!!

Would you light my candle?

From now on, we are living by candle light and sponge baths... After 3 months of getting power for what we thought was "free" we have now been appropriately billed for our energy usages and now owe $832.54. The good news is the total is perfectly divisible by 4 ($208.14 for each roommate).. the bad news is it's due tomorrow. I had honestly convinced myself that when our neighbors (3 guys who don't have a hot tub, take long showers, blow dry their hair or get scared being home alone in the dark) kept getting $500 monthly bills somehow our power usage was connected to theirs and that's why we hadn't received a bill .. turns out Gainesville Regional Utilities system just got overloaded and now we're paying for it... literally. Would you light my candle?

An Old Dutch Surprise

I got so excited when I received this fabulous surprise in the mail last week... an entire box of ketchup chips!!! Belated birthday celebrations are the best because you do not expect them in the least bit so it's even more exciting!!
Thank you so much for your thoughtfulness Lori, Keith and Roxi! You are the greatest!! =)

Lottery Winner

Today was our lottery for our nursing school complex and practicum rotation assignments. It is the scariest day of our nursing school careers as we are selected at random to sign up for where will spend our entire spring semester of senior year. Graduating in less than six months (yikes!!), this assignment semi decides our future careers! There are 120 people that are competing for our spots and lucky for us, Jess was called first for complex assignment getting her first choice of the ER and I was called first for our practicum assignments getting my first choice of the NICU!

Ballet for Dummies

Not knowing much ballet lingo, I googled ballet to see what some of the motions they were going through at the recital and the first website that came up was Ballet for Dummies and I thought I should share what I learned about: a Demi-plié in fifth position

The first exercise at the barre is the small knee bend, or demi-plié ("duh-MEE plee-AY"). The word plié means "bent," and demi means half — just as demitasse means half a cup, demi monde means half a world, and Demi Moore is half a Moore. When you do a demi-plié, you bend your knees as far as you can while still keeping both heels planted on the ground. That little caveat is the key. It means that the depth of a demi-pliédemi-plié in four of the basic positions. varies a little for every single dancer — as you're about to find out. To go from fourth to fifth position, begin by pointing your right foot, keeping it turned out as far as you can. Now close your right foot directly in front of the left, gently touching toe to heel. Lift your right arm through middle fifth position, and open it out to second. There you have it — fifth position.

Even in the unlikely event that you were born with mega-turnout, don't try to press your right foot flat against your left. A move like that can damage something important — your knees, for example.

In fact, your fifth position may stay "open" for years. It takes a long time for a dancer's hips to loosen up enough, and the muscles to strengthen enough, to hold the ideal position. Patience, young grasshopper.

While your right leg moves from fourth to fifth position, your right arm has something to do as well. Lift your right arm through middle fifth (arm) position, into second position. Okay now — time for the demi-plié. All the same rules apply, and the arm movements are the same in second position (refer to Figure 2b). Because of the strange contortions involved, the demi-plié in fifth position is the shallowest bend of them all. But perseverance pays off.

Lake Wauburg Challenge Course

As the program assistant for our group fitness program, I successfully planned our first social! We headed out to Lake Wauburg, UF's own lake 8 miles south of campus with volleyball, boating, sailing, paddle boats, disc golf and climbing wall all free to UF students! We spent the morning completing the challenge course where we did several different team building exercises that were a lot of fun! My favorite but the most challenging for me was climbing the alpine tower. Strapped to a single rope with an immense fear of heights it took a lot of self-convincing to make it all the way to the top but I eventually did it!! It took even more convincing to push myself over the edge at the top and suspend in mid-air three stories above the ground to be belayed back down...

Magnificent the Mazda

I am super excited to introduce you to Magnificent (Maggie, for short!) the Mazda .. my official first new car! I purchased her all by myself and proudly call her my own!! She is going on her first road trip this weekend to Boggy Creek, a camp for kids with terminal illnesses. Zoom-Zoom!

Oil Slicks and Helpful Hicks =)

Last Saturday I was driving home from a very exhausting weekend in Tallahassee when all of a sudden the beloved JEEP started shaking out of control! The little genie lamp looking thing (I was later informed is the oil pressure gauge) dropped to zero and the car came to a complete stop on I-10. Mind you it was 1:45 in the a.m. I called AAA (as I may be one their most valued customers!) and proceeded to wait 1.5 hours for a tow truck man (and his Dad). Being in the absolute middle of nowhere without hardly any cell phone service and the only thing close by was a state prison (no joke!), they dispatched a police officer (of whom I insisted take a picture with me because it was perfect Blog material and without picture proof, I didn't think anyone believe me that this was actually happening. After many attempts on my camera phone using the blue lights of the patrol car to light up the shot, the nice fella informed me that they are not allowed to have their photogs taken in uniform so I cannot post it because he since than has facebook stocked me and will find out if I do) who waited with me until almost 3:00. From there, I rode 89 miles (thank goodness because AAA only covers 100 miles) between a nice tow truck man and his Dad all the way back to the Ville. I learned their whole life stories including my favorite one about how he delivered all four of his kids at home just him and his wife and after they got the baby cleaned up, they took it to Shoney's. Currently being in my obstetrics rotation, I found this family tradition to be all sorts of wrong. I arrived home at 5:15 that morning and had to get one last shot with the JEEP [may he rest in piece(s)] and my new friends...

Entrapment.

Meet Megan. Petrified of spiders and all things with eight legs, she was rather distraught when I returned home today only to find her suspended five feet above the ground screaming at "the biggest spider I've ever seen; it's the like the size of an egg!"

Meet the spider. About the size of a quarter but scary none-the-less.


Meet Kenzie; Carly's little sister's boyfriend and our friendly exterminator. Ready to save the day (and get a free meal), he immediately began carefully planning a strategy to capture the spider and allow us to sleep tonight. His method was perfectly executed and the spider was successfully trapped and is currently suffocating and starving in our living room. Now if only we could catch all the lizards and cockroaches...

EXHIBIT A: The Trap. EXHIBIT B: The spider in the trap.

The Pathological Optimist

This past Thursday I endured what could be considered the worst lay-over ever. Originally booked on a 1:30 flight, it was canceled due to mechanical reasons and I was then placed on a plane that was delayed 5 separate times before eventually being canceled as well. They put me on a stand-by flight that was leaving at 10:20 p.m. (4 1/2 hours after my scheduled arrival to Mecca... I mean NYC) but the minute we boarded it also became delayed due to restrictions in Washington's airspace. Finally, I arrived in NYC at 2:45 a.m. and was safely reunited with my roommate in Manhattan around 4:00. It was no surprise when my luggage was lost but it did shock me that my bag not only beat me to NYC but arrived at the airport I was originally supposed to land at. While one might vow to never fly again after my experience (I have a flight booked August 14th to Vancouver), the pathological optimist in me found much to be thankful for on my little endeavor. Not only did I receive two free round trip vouchers but I met a very nice man in Casa Bacardi (the bar in the airport!) that even let me share his company cab with him into the city. His name was Randy and he was wonderful. Having 3 hours to kill before take-off, he told me all the great places to go in NYC and all about his career- an independent film maker. He is currently working on a documentary on kids in Africa with the premise of how culture gets passed down in orphans when they have no parents to instill their beliefs which I thought was just fabulous!
Check out his website: floatingfilms.org