So That Was the First Time I Almost Got Peed On By a Skunk

You know your day is not starting well when you almost succeed in peeing your pants within 10 minutes of waking up.

This morning, I awoke to the sweet sounds of my phone alarm going off.  So I proceeded to hop out of bed and go downstairs to make myself my Breakfast of Champions: Cheerios®.  Noticing that our trash was overflowing in the kitchen and also knowing that probably no one would take it out anytime soon…I tied it up and got ready to take it outside.  I was looking like a serious hot mess with my massive bedhead, Lisa Loeb glasses on, and green fuzzy slippers.  If that’s not a great pop culture reference, I don’t know what else is.  Not a good look for me really.

So I opened up the back door and went to throw the trash into the can.  Except there was already something in the can.  Sweet Zeus’ Beard was there already something in the can.  And it was something that appeared to be fuzzy, had a stripe, and was moving.

I threw my trash down into other trashcan, stifled my scream, and booked it back into the house which was actually pretty impressive given I had on slippers (I will thank my Mom later for making sure she bought me ones with treads on the bottom).  I’m not sure what the hell animal was in our trashcan, but it was pretty obviously not the usual squirrels.  At least those I know I could drop kick across a football field.  And it seemed to be unable to get out of its dark pit of inevitable doom. 

My thoughts immediately went to one animal: skunk!  Although there is the possibility that it was a raccoon or possum.  Any of the above are animals I don’t want to go near because I’ll either be:
1) sprayed on and smell like ass for the next month
2) be bitten and start foaming from the mouth in the next day
3) be bitten in the carotid artery like Will Ferrell in “Elf”

And I’m totally not interested in that.
So, instead, I think I’ll just let it continue to reside in our trash can.  And I’m going to also decide to not take the trash out anymore and leave it as a little “fun surprise” for the next person who takes out the trash.  Consider it my revenge for them stealing Mike’s tequila.  You should know better to mess with all this; when you mess with the bull, you will get the horns.  Or in this case, my wrath.

 

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“What does sexuality make you think of?” “TOYS!”

Today in class we got to learn about sexuality and aging.  Yes, a good solid 2 hours of talking about older adults being able to do it.  I really hope my future patients don’t ask me for help, because I am pretty much going to feel totally uncomfortable telling them to hop in a hot tub, use a lot of non-demanding touch, pop a blue pill, and go to town with plenty of pillows.

Other fun facts:
1) Demanding touch=touching someone in the goodies.  It is demanding because it means you are trying to make “it” happen.  I think when I drink I especially use demanding touch.  I start grabbing asses.  I don’t discriminate.
2) If you don’t use it, you really do lose it.  Which settles the ever so popular debate.
3) A retirement community in Florida had a huge outbreak of STD’s.  Because apparently they thought menopause was enough of a contraceptive.  Key point: no matter what age, wrap it up.  Make sure you have a pony to ride into Poundtown, USA.

I don’t think I will ever look at an older adult the same way. 

Who even knows what they’re thinking about doing!

Happy Fat Tuesday

Since I already celebrated Pardi Gras (which I thought was a terrible attempt at a play on Mardi Gras fueled by the beer industry), I think today I will ring in actual Mardi Gras–Fat Tuesday by eating a paczki. No, I’m not Polish.  More of the German-French descent.  Which btw, is there really a worse combination??

But darn it, I plan on eating as fatty of a thing as I can.  Because tomorrow I don’t get my ham sandwich.  I get a processed cheese sandwich.  Oh yum.  I’m still trying to decide what to give up for Lent, but I guess I have all of a day to come up with it.  Any ideas?  Because the year I tried to give up cussing was terrible.  I made it so far only to have my friend bait me into dropping an F-bomb.  About his grandma no less.  I’m a terrible person.  Other years it was pretzels, candy, cookies, fast food…I need something new.  And not food-based.

But anyways, today is my ode to Paczki.  You are so darn delicious, my mouth is watering thinking of you and your terrible nutritional content.

Nutrition Facts
Serving Size: 1 Paczki

Amount per Serving
Calories 329<—Equiv of 10 rice cakes.  Or essentially the whole package. Calories from Fat 102
% Daily Value *
Total Fat 11.4g<—HOLY FAT!!!!	18%
Saturated Fat  6.2g	31%
Monounsaturated Fat  3.6g
Polyunsaturated Fat  0.9g
Trans Fat  0g
Cholesterol 153mg                                                                                          Arteries…*tear*———->	51%
Sodium 172mg	7%
Potassium 91mg	3%
Total Carbohydrate 48.8g	16%
Dietary Fiber  1.3g	5%
Sugars  18.6g
Protein 5.5g	11%

Vitamin A	8%
Vitamin C	4%
Calcium	3%
Iron	11%
Vitamin E	1%
Vitamin B6	3%
Vitamin B12	3%
Magnesium	2%

---

Est. Percent of Calories from:

Fat 31.2%     Carbs 59.3%

Protein 6.7%

 

Moral of the Story:  Don’t eat too many Paczki today.  Or enter a Paczki eating contest.  You will turn into a Paczki.  No one wants to be flaky on the outside and full of goo on the inside. 

Crowds=Awkward

I’m so glad we are at battle with Mother Nature again.  Another 5 inches of snow.  Are you really kidding me?  I can’t wait for warm weather make its way back into Ohio again.  I can’t wait to be able to go outside in shorts and not freeze my ovaries off.  It would be fabulous cause i honestly think sunshine would help with my stress levels.

Last night, in order to blow off some of the stress from the past week, I went out with Mike and one of my good friends from PT School.  To the bar.  To get some ice cold beer.  We wound up going to 2 different places; one of which was totally packed.  And now begins my rant of what I dislike about the college bar scene.

Atmosphere
I hate crowded bars.  I feel like the crowded bar gives guys a chance to get all up a girl’s grill without having to explain himself because hell, it’s crowded.  There is no such thing as a personal space bubble.  I learned that quickly because I was rubbing asses with some guy almost immediately.  And I got smacked by someone’s hand almost on my ass.  I thought it was my friend, but she revealed she hadn’t.  Which means some stranger felt the need to try and touch my goodies.

People
Once we had seated ourselves at the bar, a guy immediately tries to hone in on us.  He starts hitting on my friend and touching her arm.  Which would be all well and good if it weren’t for the fact that I was in the middle of this interaction.  I felt like the awkward wing woman being stuck in the middle of a failed love connection who if she wasn’t careful, was going to have her boob touched inadvertently by said guy.  I could feel Mike’s anger growing 2 feet away.  Especially when the guy started touching my shoulder.  I don’t understand why guys in bars feel like just because there is alcohol involved, they can start talking, touching, and acting like you are more than just a first time acquaintance.  That’s probably what makes most women so uncomfortable.  Keep your distance, don’t touch, and don’t sound so desperate…otherwise you come off looking like a big douche.  And no one likes a douche.

Facilities for doing the #1
Another thing that really bugs me about the whole crowded bar experience is the fact that drinking inevitably leads to peeing.  And sometimes if done in excess, drinking leads to puking.  The line for the women’s bathroom is always longer for the following reasons: 

1) Women usually can’t hold their alcohol as well as men.  Which I noted immediately when I used the restroom because 3 people were huddled in the handicap stall puking.  How was I certain?  They came out with the telltale sign: rumpled hair and tears.
2) Women usually outnumber men at the bar.  If there are more of them, a longer line is thus created.
3) Women go to the bathroom in herds.  Often holding hands and skipping.  A group of 6 could consist of only 1 person wanting to actually use the bathroom.
4) Women’s bathrooms are by far more filthy than men’s.  Usually only 1 stall is fit for human use because the others have been overflowed, have been puked upon, are clogged, or have mysterious substances floating in them.  GROSS!
5) Women primp in the bathroom.  Even if they look real rough, we usually especially feel the need to fix our hair, put on makeup, fix lip gloss etc when we are drinking in an effort to hide the degree of roughness that we look and feel.
6) Women make friends in the bathroom.  You bond over such moments as having to hold the broken stall door shut for each other, not being able to figure out how to make paper towels come out of the dispenser, etc. 

There really is no magical mystique to the women’s bathroom.  It’s a dirty place.  So dirty that sometimes I think I would rather give myself a bladder infection by holding it till I get home so that I don’t have to step on wet toilet paper while trying to hover over a infested seat.  Yes, I just puked a little in my mouth thinking about it again.

Conclusion
I can’t wait to graduate.
 

FFTD (Fun Fact of The Day)

It’s been awhile since I awkwardly hugged by boyfriend, felt the “pop” in my back, and had pain near and under my shoulder blade which was so bad at one point that I could barely turn my head to the left.  Today, in class, I found out exactly what happened.  Or, for better description, what is still happening.

My akward hug caused my rib to dislocate.

My professor made me lie on my stomach so he could try and “spring” my ribs in order to see how mobile they are.  When he got to the 2 that were right around where my pain was, he got was pretty much in disbelief at how little they moved.  Or pretty much not at all.  One of my classmates asked “So, when a rib dislocates does it pop back in?”  To which he responded “Well usually”.  So my classmate asked “So hers went back into place?” and he said “no.” 

So currently I have either 1 or 2 ribs that are out of place.  Which would explain why sitting up for long periods hurts like I got shot in the back with a BB gun. 

Thus far, in PT School I have learned the following:
1) My hamstrings suck at life.  If I can touch my toes I am happy.
2) I have impingement in both shoulders.
3) I overly pronate in my right foot, which could lead to a fallen arch.
4) My thoracic spine has zero mobility.
5) My costovertebral joints suck.  As do the ligaments that hold my ribs in place.
6) I have weak deep neck flexors.
7) My gluteus maximus is definitely a 5/5. Objective measure of having a sweet ass.  ROCKSTAR! 

Moral of the story: Avoid giving awkward hugs.  Hug someone straight on.  Don’t do the ass-out hug.  Don’t do a bear hug.  Any variation on a typical hug can cause injury.  Especially if you are me.

Am I going to Make it?

Ever since starting grad school, my focus has shifted from a focus on the future view to a focus on the present .  Each has its benefits, but I’m starting to hate how I only focus on the here and now and disregard how it will affect me down the line.  I feel that with every class, I am merely doing enough to just “get by”.  To just get that “A”.  To just get me through one more week with the glimpse of my ever so distant graduation coming closer into view.  I feel like I am doing myself a disservice.  I never quite feel that I am remembering everything so that I will be able to recall it when doing a patient examination, answer a question in class, or when I take my boards next year.

The more I think about everything I need to get done before graduation, the scarier this prospect becomes.  Somehow I need to finish data collection on my scholarly project before May.  Data collection that hasn’t even begun.  Somehow I have to compose 2 huge presentations for my elective.  Somehow I have to succeed in passing a Musculoskeletal practical without giving in to the urge to cry when some overly blunt teacher questions my methods.  Somehow I need to be ready to present a completed research study in platform format for Scholarly Project.  Somehow I also will probably need to present my completed research study at a conference.  Somehow I am going to complete 4 clinical internships which will truly test me in ways that I have yet to comprehend.  Somehow I am going to need to pass my board exam so that I can become a practicing clinician.  When it is all thrown out there, at once, it is incredibly overwhelming. 

I know I have it within me to complete it all, but it is going to be such a challenge.  I never back down from challenges, but this one really has got me in quite a bind.  I am going to have to overcome many personal demons in order to grow into the person I need and want to be both personally and professionally.

I need to become a complete person in every sense of the definition.

Growing up, is a very hard thing to do sometimes.  Accepting that you no longer have the world at beck and call, to explore whenever you want…is tough.  I miss the days when I was able to do that.  Explore the world through child’s eyes.  Not have a care in the world except what sort of trouble I was going to get myself into that particular day.  Not having to commit to one thing, but being able to try out many different activities in order to discover where my true talents and skills lay.

Yes, it’s safe to say I truly miss those days.

Is Love Alive?

Dear Mike,
When I met you three years ago, little did I know that would be the day that changed my life forever.  We started out as casual acquaintances.  This slowly blossomed into a friendship.  One that would be strong beyond compare.  We helped each other through break-ups, tough times, and just…life.  And then I began to look at you differently.  I started to see you as not just a friend, but possibly more.  We shared every common interest possible; from our love of soccer to running to sharing the same religion to watching some of the same crappy TV shows.  In essence, you were the male version of me minus the whole enjoying Chinese food thing; which I have come to the conclusion that you’re nutty for not enjoying a steaming plate of General Tso’s chicken .  At the beginning of last summer, everyone but us knew that we should start dating.  Yet we denied, denied, denied.  And when we finally began to talk about it, the revelation that we both felt the same way about each other was born.  I’m so glad that we determined this.  The past 6 or so months have been phenomenal, and I couldn’t ask for anything more.  You truly are a special person, one that can read me like a book.  I can hide nothing from you, you always know when something’s wrong and just exactly what to do to change it.  You always defend my honor, never asking for anything in return.  You are more than just my boyfriend; you are my best friend.  I can’t imagine my life without you.  It’s hard to imagine that if the present is something so special and precious, that our future must be something extraordinary.  I can’t wait to find out!  I love you.  All of you.  From your head down to your stinky shoes.  Happy Valentine’s Day.

Love,
Eli

**Edit**
This is what I got back in response.  I’m pretty lucky to have him!
http://www.xanga.com/mjmnogoal/692922944/love-is-alive/

Joaquin Phoenix is a douche

Last night on Letterman, Joaquin Phoenix made an appearance.  And oh what an appearance it was.  This guy either had to be
1) On drugs
2) Totally acting
3) Drunk
4) A douche

I’m thinking it was a combination.  You are an A-List actor in Hollywood.  You are most famous for your role in “Walk the Line” where we all found out that, HEY you really kind of sort of may have a decent singing voice that may or may not have been enhanced by a sound studio.  And then you go and act as if you are too cool for school.  You grow out your beard.  Don’t brush your hair.  And throw away all the “Hollywood” in you.  Sorry buddy, but you made a ton of money that way so don’t act all self righteous about deciding not to suckle from the power teat that is Hollywood.

 I sort of feel bad for Letterman.  I mean I know I would hate hate HATE having to sit there and talk to myself for about 5 minutes which is pretty much what happened.  He probably could have busted out a razor, shaved J’s head, and then hog-tied him to the chair and Joaquin probably wouldn’t have batted an eyelash.  I can hardly wait to hear his hip-hop records.  They are probably about along the lines and talent level of KFed.  Joaquin Phoenix’s downward spiral rivals some other famous celebs of which I will recall….NOW…. 

1)  Michael Jackson:  the original king of Pop.  Now he looks like some form of space alien that we have yet to identify.  And he’s bankrupt.  And likes to name his children after articles of cloth.  Good one.  I hated on him before it was even cool to hate on him.  Just call me the original MJ hater; I came out of the womb in ’85 wanting to deck anyone who attemped to sing “Thriller”

2)  Britney Spears:  What really is there left to be said?  She hit reporters with umbrellas, shaved her head, drove around with her son in her lap and was photographed doing so and somehow still has custody?  Damn her lawyer’s good.

3)  Tom Cruise:  If ever there was a human I entirely despise…it’s this man.  He used to be a semi-decent actor who appeared in semi-decent movies.  And then he jumped on a couch, declared his love for Katie Holmes, and reproduced.  And then has been loving the smell of his own ass by ragging on everyone that doesn’t believe in scientology. 

4)  Chris Brown: I don’t even need to say a word.  It’s plastered over every headline.  JACKASS.

5)  Amy Winehouse:  Thus why I dressed as this hot mess last Halloween.  It was probably the best costume ever.  All I was missing was flour all over my nose.  But sadly, I was told that night “You still look too good to be Amy Winehouse”.  Damn, I should have blacked out that tooth.

Stef and I pretty much had the best costumes…no, she wasn’t a big perv, which is pretty much what everyone though.  Bobby Light gonna do you right (Of Dirty Girl and Rob&Big fame)

The list could go on, but that is for another time and another place.  Besides, tonight is Thursday.  Who’s watching Grey’s Anatomy?  Certainly NOT me!  That show is going down the drain faster than Mischa Barton’s lunch.

Wow Baby…you smell flamebroiled.

I can’t believe this is for serious.  Burger King really has put out a new fragrance called “Flame”.  Don’t believe me?  Check it out!  It can be purchased for a mere $3.99.  About the same price of that tempting vixen known as a Whopper.
http://www.firemeetsdesire.com/

Personally, I have no idea how smelling like a flamebroiled whopper is really going to make you that much more desirable.  Maybe to the pot bellied man sitting at the corner of the bar.  But is that really the type of man you want to attract?

Because I’m pretty sure he would try to take a bite out of your neck, thigh, or arm.  It looks like he can’t himself enough of that Whopper.

***Quick edit****
I thought that I was done finding crazy things today, but apparently I was ever so dead wrong.  In a quick flip through on my Facebook, when I probably should have been working on schoolwork or at least pretending to be mildly busy, I discovered the following:

Yes, that is a Face/Beard/Hat.  For those that want to class up their ski mask.  You can now get one with a nice mustache and beard.  Completely constructed out of wool and acrylic.  My birthday is coming up in a month; you all now know what to get me.