High school...

Honestly, just like puberty, high school sucked. Generally speaking, high school was not it for me because nothing that soul-sucking could be. HOWEVER- if my class gets to have a high school reunion (our class president has been bet against heavily saying that he will drop the ball), there are so many things I look forward to checking up on and so many things I can’t wait to look back on.
 1.All the ridiculous teachers I had. There were a lot. One was a portly fellow who had a terrible time not only pronouncing names, but caring enough to remember them. One kid in my class had the last name “Caccitore” (like the Italian chicken dish) and this man constantly pronounced it “Kack-ee-ah-tore”.  He ate peanuts by the truck load and you knew this because the shells were all caught up in the crevices of his all too tight button-down. He also wasn’t very good at catching on to pranks. We had assigned seats in the lab and mine just happened to be directly in front of the power switch for the entire computer/projector system. It was enormous. Unfortunately it wasn’t “cartoon mad scientist taking over the world” enormous. I figured out how to switch it without making a loud noise so from time to time when he wasn’t looking, I flipped it off. When nothing would start up, he would get really confused, walk back to the switch and ask me “did something turn this off?” He didn’t ask if I did it, let alone anyone else, but if “something” did. This went on for weeks. We decided to give up.
2. I can’t wait to check up on all the crushes I have had. Embarrassingly enough, some of them weren’t in my grade. The ones that were in my grade are still (2 years later) ridiculously handsome. I’d like to think that their looks can be preserved, but apparently aging can be a bitch. I also want to see what they did with their lives and if they knew that I was completely infatuated with them. I want to believe that when I’m 30 and 40, I’ll have grown up enough to be brave about those sort of things.
3. I can’t wait to look back on the very first day of high school. So many things happened. I met my best friend because she overwhelmed me with salutations and flagged me down during gym class. I met this kid and the first thing he told me was that he had three nipples…he then proceeded to show me and ask me to prom three years in advance... we didn't end up going together. I got the books knocked out of my hands by my older sister’s menacing friends, and lastly, I saw a kid bite into a rotten apple and throw up in his hands. I’m a little ashamed to say that it’s one of my favorite overall high school memories because honestly, how often does someone casually throw up in their hands, shake it off and stroll into the bathroom? For the record, the whole time I was writing that I was laughing aloud.
4. Along with my old crushes, I cannot wait to check back in on my enemies. When I was in high school, my friend and I were very back-and-forth on the subject of where we would be at our high school reunions. Some days, we greatly feared that our reunion would play out like the part from “Romey and Michelle’s High School Reunion” where they would lie tell people they had invented obscure things that made them rich.  Other days we’d be like “you know what? In 15 years, we are going to be the baddest bitches ever. We’re going to have awesome jobs, hot trophy husbands and an overall fabulous life and [insert enemy here] is going to be our maid”. We aren’t very spiteful people.

 In preparation for this blog, I scoured my computer for various artifacts that I could use to pull together coherent material. Most of said artifacts were notes written to one of my best friends for the better part of high school, as we had notebooks full of notes, mixed CD’s that we gave each other, emails, you name it! Well, I discovered very quickly that there were quite a few themes that ran through all of my artifacts:
1.I was (well, we were) boy crazy. I got my first boyfriend during my senior year of high school, but not due to lack of effort. Most of our notes had witty undertones of how single we were or they had “major dilemmas” regarding our crushes or lists of boys in our high school we would date. However, due to the fear of being read by an outside party, we developed nicknames or code names for frequently talked about boys. In looking back, I should have made them more memorable for my future self. These code names started with my friend in the 5th grade when we decided to be in love with the same boy. We gave him a GENIUS nickname so we could talk about him in public due to the fear that someone may overhear and be a 9th degree to him.  More on that later.
2.Going off the nicknames thing, my friends and I had given each other a name from the “Cheetah Girls” movies and as a result a slew of ridiculous nicknames for those names. My name was Dorinda so some of the names that I was given were “DOnut” “DOrito” and “DOn’t-you-wish-your-girlfriend-was-hot-like-me”. My friend whom I wrote so many letters to was given the name Aquanetta so some of her names were “QUAsimodo” “nothin’-but-NETTA” and her personal favorite which I have recently used for old time’s sake “David ArchuNETTA”. She was a real fan.
3.I used a lot of weird phrases. If you think some of the things I use are weird now, I used such phrases as:
               a.“Maybe someone needs a kick in the tights” or a variant of.
               b.“chika chika yeah yeah”- I feel like that was due to the fact that “Superbad” was really big at the time.
               c.I quoted a lot of Disney Channel shows. Like, way too many for a 15 year old girl.
               d.I also liked to think that I was semi-fluent in Spanish when I was woefully dysfluent. It also doesn’t work with my writing style. Es no bueno.

In sum, high school may seem like the worst part of your life, and it very may well be. HOWEVER, in 5 years you will look back on it (as I have) and chuckle at the littlest of things, much like someone throwing up in their hands.

Twitter and Tumblr? What?

I recently joined twitter. And I recently discovered what Tumblr sort of is. I’m going to go ahead and use the terms “joined” and “discovered” loosely as I’m still really not sure how to use twitter or what the hell tumblr does/is. I could probably go on forever about both, but here are some of the things that I’m questioning about the both of them:

First of all…twitter makes me feel like the world’s biggest creep. I can’t even describe the feeling of seeing a celebrity that I have followed has tweeted. It is in part excitement that this person is in fact visibly on the same media outlet as you at the exact same time, part of that stressed out rushed feeling you get when you blank out on everything (ie me taking a test) because you feel like you have a small window of opportunity to reply to their tweet in hopes to get…well whatever you’re set out to do. I’m not, however, going as far as to be the one sending “verified” famous people pleasantries such as “I’ll actually reply to your tweeted question if and only if you follow me”.  I have a number of breakdowns for this:

1. What is the point of saying that? It was probably a rhetorical question… do you think they ACTUALLY care at what someone they only know as “Louis’ Babe” is doing right this second? Probably not. It’s also useless because people get so many of those “follow me” messages that they don’t even read them anymore. It’s a pure waste of 140 characters and you look crazy.

2. What is the hype about a person following you? Harassing someone into following you doesn’t mean that the pair of you are going to strike up a lifelong relationship of sorts…it means that every time you tweet, that person probably won’t care, but they may see it. I don’t fully understand why people who are famous follow people they don’t know personally. I suppose it’s a double standard because the first thing I did when I got a twitter was follow Ellen Degeneres…however I don’t by any means expect she will return the favor. I think it’s a standard because when I followed her, I wanted to know what’s going on in her life and I feel like for famous people, they follow their fans to make it look good or like they care and want to be involved.

3.  I read on numerous websites that to get a celebrity to retweet you, it should be clever. WELL to you it may be clever, but to them it’s a. creepy. b. weird c. not clever when 6,000 other people are in the harassment for a follow business or d. all of those. If you took like… I don’t know, 30 seconds to scan the page of replies, all they are is “follow me” “FOLLOW ME I LOVE YOU” or “can I get a retweet/follow”. YOU HAVE TO HAVE SOMETHING RETWEETABLE TO RETWEET!

4.  What do you do when someone famous decides to follow you? Change your whole twitter personality and all of a sudden stop tweeting every 10 seconds about how you are leaving your house, getting in your car and OH MY GOD! At a stop sign? If that’s the case, then yes, a celebrity following you would be the best thing ever. If they follow you and all of a sudden you change your twitter name and bio to “OMG I GOT FOLLOWED BY ONE DIRECTION!” then no, no one should follow you…ever.

HOWEVER I’d like to change my tune a bit to say what I would like to think I would do in a situation where someone awesome would follow me:

1.  I would tell people…not on twitter, but in person or via text that yes, Ellen Degeneres cares about my life.

2. Try my darndest to tweet witty and clever 140 characters worth of something that she may or may not notice.

3.  For the most part play it cool

What I think would probably happen is:

1.  You’ve read my fangirl post.

2. I think I would feel overly inclined to start tweeting them whenever the hell I felt like it. I’d for sure abuse my followed-ness. 

3. They’d ultimately unfollow me and ignore all future contact.

My biggest problem with twitter is how complicated and confusing it is. Like, really? Facebook is enough! Twitter couldn’t be more complicated if it tried…which it shouldn’t. Here are my questions:

1. What is with all the abbrevs. I thought we went over this… abbrevs should be used in joking, sparingly, not at all, or only when someone is new and unaware of the aforementioned approved scenarios.

2. How come you don’t really know if someone tweets at you unless you refresh your home or stalk the persons page? When someone replies to something you said, I feel like it should show up on your page or you should get wild and whacky notifications telling you where the hell it is.

3. I just literally don’t know how to do anything but tweet myself.

Tumblr, however, I just don’t even care to know how it works or why it’s there. I know that it is purely the junk drawer of media outlets. You just post random stuff there because you know, somehow, someday some equally as crazy fan of the same thing you just posted will like it or something. The only reason I know of tumblr is because I occasionally like to send my friend humorous pictures of things and I, for the most part, find they are linked back to tumblr. So instead of riffling through google pictures, I went to the source. MISTAKE. Here are some of the things/people that are on tumblr.

1.  Hipster dicks, apparently. My friend has a tumblr and she doesn’t use it because she told me that the site is crawling with hipster dicks. I will take her word for it.

2.  Because of the nature of what I like to send pictures of, I find that tumblr is rife with overly devoted fans that don’t have much else to do with their time except fantasize about meeting all of One Direction, Harry Potter etc and doing REALLY dirty things to them. You’re like 14, how do you know those words? 

3. They will scam you sideways. “Click here to see a naked picture of ____”… No.  It’s probably a link to their own page, or a video of them trying to become a famous singer or whatnot. If I actually thought it was someone naked, I HIGHLY doubt that your post is the first time I’m hearing they posed naked somewhere.

4. They believe anything. LITERALLY ANYTHING.

Like I said, I could go on for days about how ridiculous tumblr and twitter are, but I would probably have to become a full on user of tumblr and understand how twitter works, and that honestly sounds like something I don’t have the time for. I do have 2 jobs and you know…friends so I think that for now, I will remain opinionated, yet unmotivated. 

I'm a fangirl of fangirls.

Fact: There is an ancient and finite art to being a fangirl. Another fact is that unless you are a fangirler or the fangirlee, you will find it to be absolutely ridiculous. Urbandictionary.com defines a fangirl as “A female who has overstepped the line between healthy fandom and indecent obsession”.  We’ve all seen the videos of the Beatles greatest hits and their many a screaming fan flailing for their attention with every fiber of their very being. That is fangirling if I’ve ever seen it, which I have seen a lot due to my choice of social outings and well…because I find it fascinating. You may be asking yourself how someone can find overly obsessed “commoners” to be interesting…well how are they not?

    1.  They are dedicated to the point of doing anything. In research for evidence of this statement, I saw a Swedish teen ask One Direction to, in lieu of signing her shirt, draw on her face. Yes, her face.  One member drew a mustache, another drew on Harry Potter glasses, someone wasn’t so bold and just drew a smiley face on her cheek and the other two refused to partake. Another interesting show of dedication I saw was the infamous “Harry Potter towel girl”. This chick is the poster child for dedication. She stood outside in late November in Times Square wearing only a Harry Potter towel holding a sign that read “Mrs. Radcliffe is HERE!” I obviously cannot speak for others when I bring up the point that even with creativity, who thinks of that? Touché towel girl, touché.
    2.   The determination they have to meet their fangirlee. I will again bring up another member of the Harry Potter fangirling extravaganza that recently outweighed the towel girl according to Daniel Radcliffe. Some girl was so hell-bent on getting to meet Mr. Harry Potter himself that when she saw his car driving through the city with the windows down, she took it upon herself to climb through her window into his, while in traffic…not hitting the ground. Fortunately/Unfortunately before she made it fully into the other car, traffic began to move again so she had to dismount and get back in her own car. An avid “Directioner” camped out in the trash bin outside of the Teletubbies-style complex where One Direction resides in the hopes to meet one of them.  Here are my questions to you, trash lady… what was the next step in your plan? How long were you going to get trash dumped on you until you made your next move? Did you think that you would wait there until Harry Styles took the trash out, leap from the bin and say “I did this for you Harry!”, he’d be so touched by your fandom that despite being covered in well…trash you were an amazing person and the two of you would get married? I have to assume that was the plan because sitting in a dumpster for an autograph is a lot of effort… I would rather patiently wait for a signed picture in the mail after I emailed the management. 
    3.   They provide so much entertainment. I cannot tell you how many videos I have watched of girls fainting or crying while huddled in a ball about how they just saw their fangirlee. I laugh at every single one. I think if I camped out for like 10 hours to get a picture with someone, I too would be crying at how sleep deprived I am, not to mention the fact that my clothes are probably wrinkled, my makeup looks like I applied is sans mirror in a moving vehicle and that I haven’t used a tooth brush since before I left my house.  But in all honesty, yes I probably would campout to meet my favorite people.

To provide examples for all three of those bullets, I obviously used the extremists. Fangirls, like people come in a variety of personalities. Here are some of them:

      1.  Extremists…see previous list for their greatest hits.
      2. Wannabe Extremists. They share the same passion for the fangirled victim, yet they lack the impulsiveness and craziness that it takes to be extreme.
      3. Screamers. They are the ones who blow their opportunity to be remembered- good or bad and just end up a squealing mess in front of everyone. They may manage to breathe out “I love you” or “hi [insert name here]” but usually scare off the person of their desire and get their security to move you along faster.
      4. The infected fangirl. This is one where someone may not be a fangirl, but when faced with the opportunity to meet someone they are a fan of gets mixed with a being star-struck and the fact that they are surrounded by a billion screaming fangirls, they themselves crack and fangirl with the best of ‘em.
      5. The level-headed, time-and-place fangirl. I don’t want to seem full of myself…but this is the type of fangirl I am. I have met many people that I am a fan of and in each of those meet and greets, I have not once been shoved along by security, escorted out, or curled into a ball sobbing. This is because I maintain the “time and place” mentality. I attended a Neon Trees concert about a year ago. During the concert, I was cheering, hollering, singing and yes: flailing. BUT when I got a chance to meet them and the warm up band… I played it cool and I actually had a conversation with the person, rather than reasoning with their security to release my arm and put me down. I feel like it is more worth a fangirl’s while to fangirl during the concert, pre-meet and greet and for sure post. During the meet and greet, when you fangirl in front of the person you are meeting, instead of scaring the person with ear-piercing, shrill,  and potentially harmful shrieking, bottle it for just a few minutes, get your hugs and pictures, be memorable with the joking, make it out of the line and THEN fangirl the shit out of the fact that you just hugged and got a picture with your favorite person ever/soulmate.

To be perfectly honest I love fangirls. Fangirls make the world go round. Everyone has something to fangirl over and here a few of the things I have fangirled over/still do:

1.  From age 8 to age 10 I was a full time Lance Bass obsessor.
 2. Since I have been 11 years old, I have transformed how I fangirl via the likes of Rupert Grint. I have probably exhibited traits of each of the 5 types of fangirls above, though I have yet to meet him. One day though, one day.
 3. Harry Potter in general. Books, movies, people involved, you name it. I will even admit that before the end of the summer, I will be emblazoned (a word I learned from the HP books) with a tattoo that reads the last three words of the series. I am a total Potterhead loud and proud.
4. Jesse McCartney. I loved him in his Dream Street days. THAT is dedication.
5. Alton Brown. He’s the outlier of the obvious pattern you may see emerging. 
6. Paula Deen. Whoops another outlier.
7. Anyone from Saturday Night Live. I feel like if I were to ever get to have an opportunity to meet Bill Hader, I would for sure freeze and totally make a fool of myself.
8. Maxim Chmerkovisky. I actually met him and I couldn’t help but fangirl. I’ve actually met him twice. The first time I was trying on dance costumes and he told me that the one I had on was amazing. To the lady who was trying to sell it to me: well played madam, well played. The second time I played it cool and got a picture.
9. Ellen Degeneres. I love her so much. That’s all I really have to say about that. I love her to pieces.
10.One Direction. I feel like if I had enough time on my hands, and the funding, I could potentially hold my own with the trash bin girl. However when I do meet them, I plan on playing it cool and becoming their best friend in the world.

Well, those are my thoughts on fangirls... their motto should be “you cannot beat us, so just join us”. It’ll happen, ladies…just give it time. 

The Joy in little things.

Everyone has a list of weird and/or awesome things that fill them with an indescribable joy....a euphoria if you will. It can literally include anything: the weirder they are, the more people think it is a direct reflection that YOU are also weird. I love finding out little things like this about people. I think it allows me to silently and secretly judge and compare myself to those that tell me about their “idiosyncrasies”, but personally I think they they should be called “idiosynCRAZIES”...Do you see what I did there? SO in the interest of being judged, I will now list the little things that fill my heart and soul with joy...

1. Being right.
I don’t think there is one person anywhere...ever that doesn’t like being right. I do not believe for one second that it is possible to not like being right. Even if you’re not an outright enthusiast of being right all the time, everyone has to get a little happiness out of owning another person every once in awhile. I, however, absolutely adore being right. I will be the first to admit that nothing warms my insides like getting singled out and then turning it back around on someone. Short example: I was writing notes like a good student in class today when my professor stops the whole lecture. He firmly says my name and I look up to him standing no more than six inches from my desk. “Give me your cell phone. I saw you using it just now” he blurts. “I wasn’t using my phone, I was literally writing notes” I reply, completely embarrassed. “It’s in your lap” he insists. As I sit up and reveal my empty lap saying “no, it’s not”, he retracts, obviously embarrassed, and I, though HEATED, felt badass because I was right.

2. Made beds.
To be clear, freshly made beds that are all tucked in and tight make me happier than any piece of furniture ever could. I almost wish I was kidding...almost. I take so much pride in the made-ness of my bed, that it is to the point that if it isn’t to my liking, I can’t do anything until it is. It has to be tucked, tight, flat and smooth... or all hell breaks loose.

3. One Direction.
This completely qualifies as a guilty pleasure. I am not ashamed of the fact that these 5 impeccably well dressed British/Irish lads have roped me into their catchy songs and childish, but still teenage antics, but I am ashamed that they are either my age. (I believe one may be younger). I feel like if I ever ended in the same vicinity of them, I would reduce myself to a 12 year old and strike a smothering fear into their hearts as a screaming twenty-something year-old fan girl. The biggest reason why I am not wholeheartedly ashamed to be mildly in love with “1D” is the fact that I’m not alone. Even if people aren’t out of the closet yet, you know you are safe to flaunt how much you love One Direction because people can’t validly hate on you for something they too enjoy...that’s just plain hypocrisy.I waive my One Direction love loud and proud, and I refuse to turn their songs down in my car. The British Invasion has won me over.

4. Engulfing myself in a TV show.
I would like to thank Netflix for allowing me the privilege of practicing this...hobby? I don’t have the full on netflix where they send movies to your house, but I do have the instant streaming...which is how I like it...instant gratification of “oh man, I just watched 6 seasons of that this week?”. I’d call that gratification since at the tail end of those 6 seasons both my roommate and I owned our finals. That, however was like a year ago. By now, I have thoroughly combed through and conquered netflix... I will now proceed to list what I have accomplished.
--6 seasons of Weeds- 1 week
--6 chapters of Greek (really only like 4 seasons)- probably a week
--MULTIPLE disney channel or ABC family original movies about high school cliques clashing into a love story, always involving a makeover and fashion show of said makeover.
--6 seasons of “The Hills”- to be honest, toward the end my IQ dropped so low that I was only watching it to prove to myself I could do it. I tried to sit through Laguna Beach but literally wanted to end my own life and I tested out the spin off “The City” because I felt like Whitney was the only normal one of The Hills, but I just couldn’t deal with it. I can’t stand anything about it...but I did make it through.
--I’m currently working on Breaking Bad. My dad and I started watching it together and would watch like 5 episodes a night and then I came home one night and he surpassed me to the point of not being able to catch up. SO as I finish, he is anxiously awaiting the arrival of the 4th season to netflix as I catch up and then wait, thus proving the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
--I like to go back and rewatch Grey’s, How I Met Your Mother, Scrubs, etc...I mean who doesn’t
--All of the UK Skins
--And so many others its somewhat embarrassing. My roommate’s dad threatened to cancel the account because we watched so much...My mom did as well, but never followed through.

and lastly, my favorite thing that currently brings me joy:

5. Alton Brown.
Well mostly the food network in general, but also mostly just him. He’s ungodly smart, and like one direction, incredibly well dressed. No one carries off a bow tie quite like him (except for one direction...I feel like the sport them on the reg). More than that, I will be the first person to admit that he is good looking...and quirky...like sexy geek chic. Some additional reasons I like him? You’ve got it...
1. I started watching Good Eats my freshman year first semester when I stumbled upon him on hulu and realized that he uses chemistry. I was taking a nutrition class that delved heavily into chemistry and was taught by the most boring man in Rhode Island. I decided that I needed to raise what I could only assume was an F so I made good ol’ AB my professor and guess what? That assumed F turned into a B+ thanks to him...so now, I owe Alton Brown everything.
2. His show is genius. I have used his recipes from Good Eats and followed them exactly and literally everything I have made has come out perfect. So perfect, in fact that it makes me feel like I could drop everything and stop by culinary school real fast and go pro.
3. He’s Alton freaking Brown. He makes his own list. Everyone needs to love him.

I hope that inspires you to take a good hard look at yourself in the mirror and say “yes, I am indiosynCRAZY, but I love it”. If you do so, you open the door to being judged, but in turn justifying yourself to judge others... watch out bitches.

Baking in all its glory...

I like to bake. I like to bake a lot of things for a lot of reasons. Here is where I start a series of lists and explain way too much about baking.
My first line of lists is what makes me want to bake-
1. OBVIOUSLY the first and foremost reason is that I have a joansing for some delightfully chocolatey, sugary, and/or frosting-smothered transporter of what SNL’s version of Paula Deen calls “The Sugars”. Using my impressive knowledge of pop culture, and you know...turning on some type of media outlet, “The Sugars” is actually adult onset type II diabetes. Nothing makes for a night in like a sugar coma via the likes of cupcakes and cookies shaped like animals and such.
2. It’s someone’s birthday. There isn’t much that I like more than birthdays (especially mine). One of the things I DO love more is birthday cake. I love making people’s birthday cakes. It’s kind of ridiculous how much joy I get out of it. My mom used to not let me make my own cake for my birthday and I would be so mad. It’s almost a problem...almost.
3. Boredom. I sometimes bake out of boredom. Some people eat, some people stalk others on facebook, and some just sit and stare at the wall...but I bake. I crank cookies, brownies and multicolored cupcakes shaped like penguins like it’s no one’s g’damn business. I do this in waves, and it gets especially cranking when I am on bed rest and my kidney stones get to kicking.

Secondly, Things I do while I bake-
1. I dance around to a hearty mix of songs. The criteria for such a playlist is simple and finite. I have to know every word to each song, I have to be able to do that ridiculous but awesome “rock” stance/head bang combination, and if that doesn’t apply, I have to be able to convince myself that I know the words to the song which is in a different language. And lastly, the songs cannot be in any way linked to anything other than good times.
2. I like to take pictures of the process and finished product. To me, it says “yeah, I just did that”. It also lets everybody else know because I immediately upload it to the interwebs.
3. I pretend I am a professional singer. But I do that whenever I do almost anything. Homework, driving, showering, and most importantly baking. This brings me to a sublist of songs and genres I enjoy being professional at: 
a. Pop/Rap/”hip hop”
b. Broadway showtunes.
c. Alternative Rock, and in some surprising cases screamo.

Third: What baking does to me-
1. It makes me think I am one step closer to having a TLC reality show about all my whacky cupcakes. Yeah right. Not only do I need to have some type of business that is either booming, churns out towering cakes to society’s finest or both, but I also need some measurable talent and or tool-belt of skills as I literally follow pictures and directions.
2. Baking calms me down. It’s no wonder why I get to cranking out baked goods during kidney seasons...it passes the time in a wonderfully delicious-smelling way. My mom, on the contrary, hates it because she claims everyone is going to get fat. It hasn’t happened yet...
3. It gives me joy to watch other people enjoy what I’ve made. Nothing makes you feel high like people makin’ love to your cupcakes. It’s like being the Marilyn Monroe for food...you become a legend!

So in sum, baking is amazing. It tastes even better. You should try it.

Families are everywhere

People in day surgery come and go. I, as a joke, in all seriousness should have a bed designated to me, because I am there so much. All previous eight surgeries I was stationed just outside the door leading to the OR. This time, I got stuck in a weird side room that I believe was labeled “Q”. BUT I’m getting ahead of myself.

October 2008- my first attempt at Battle: Kidney Stone, a tall, some could say gangly anesthesiologist introduces himself with a sense that he is REALLY excited. I, being terrified of what is about to happen to me do not pick up on any comfort he is trying to pass along. I didn’t want drugs, I didn’t want a name tag for my stuffed animal, I wanted my clothes and the nearest exit. Unfortunately that was not an option and long story short, I am alive and I made it.

Seven surgeries later, Dr. Brusseau? (I hope that’s his official name) comes bounding into my curtained off area (which, being in it a total of eight times in three and a half years, I think I deserve a commemorative picture and whatnot above the “TV”) and I honestly could not be more excited to see him. A familiar face. I had such a comforting, even good experience my first kidney surgery, and since this one was not looking to go well, I was excited to see some positive energy. Being a nervous rambler, I had a whole arsenal of questions to delay the IV and the drugs and the “say goodbye to mom” stages. I got to test the waters, via the likes of Rollie was just what the doctor ordered (haw haw haw). He played into all of my nervous humor and made me feel comfortable. Then I met the Christina Yang of Urology. But to keep this on the fun side, we will surpass her.
I also had an OR nurse for surgery number eight that was one of the nicest women I have ever gotten the chance to sing “Man in the Mirror” with. Yes, once the drugs are administered, I sing...and giggle. Seriously, she scrambled to put MJ on Pandora to make sure they put me out as we all bridged into the chorus of “Man in the Mirror”... that is some serious nursing bed-side manner.

5 weeks later....

March 9, 2012
Ninth surgery, ninth day of the month. Three less than twelve...nine. Its a sign, 9 is my new lucky number.
I am lucky for so many reasons on this day.
1. My surgery went successfully, in multiple senses of the word
2. I don’t have to go back for a 10th surgery for reasons pertaining to #1
There are so many reasons but, literally the best reason why I was so lucky today was...
3. I saw familiar faces.
I enter pre-pre-op with my giraffe in hand to a delightful older woman named Erma who I SWEAR I have had every single time I have been there. She calls me “baby-child”, I chuckle, walk inside and stand on the scale. Then, just like the sun after a storm (of nerves) Rollie (Raleigh? Dr. B?) strolls on by saying “welcome back!” with a gleaming smile. As I reply, he then says the words that I was so excited to hear “I will be seeing YOU later!”.
I smile. I gush to my mom about how Rollie is going to be on my service and how I can get to organizing my list of pointless “ice-breaker” questions I have in store for him, as well as anyone else who dare enters room “Q”.
My surgeon comes in, and my first round of questions go successfully. 20 minutes wasted.
Rollie pops in and we reminisce about the last time, I sign papers, we get caught up (just as planned) in questions pertaining to music and ipods and a bunch of other improv’d questions I came up with. He has to go attend to more patients.
The nurse anesthetist comes in and we get to talking about prom (even though mine was like...3 years ago) and she told me that when she works in OBGYN in some other hospitals when she hears the babies cry for the first time after a C-section, she still tears up. She passed my test...she has a heart.
Rollie comes back so I can sign some papers saying if I die, my blood is not on his hands (or something like that) and I told him that I had the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory candy song stuck in my head...and right on queue, the best OR nurse on the face of the Earth pops in and reminds me of five weeks previously and of our duet. That is when Rollie turns to her and says the best thing ever:
“Don’t give her the drugs until I get back, I can’t miss this”
He leaves and comes back, the drugs are given, and according to my mother, a trio of the candy song starts. I of course take the lead and apparently don’t stop laughing and singing until I am out like a light.

After almost a week of recovering and a weird sadness, I realize... this is the last 3 years of my life. I may not be someone who spends months in a hospital getting to know their doctors, but I know these people and they have become my security blankets when I am scared. Yes my mom is holding my hand when they have to stick me with needles, but these people have gotten me through the scariest times I have had in these years. My friends are there for me, but they don’t know what goes on unless I tell them. These doctors and nurses provide support and comfort for when I am signing my life into their hands for the day.
After I wake up and come to, they check on me. When I go home at the end of my recovery period, I go home to my dad, dog and usually sister and boyfriend, but while I’m there, the doctors and nurses are my family.

Alien Abduction!

You may think this is one of those eye-catching titles that will make you want to read more...but you are grossly incorrect. This is a serious topic brought to me by a dear friend. She almost fell victim to an abduction herself last night. As she was sitting in her car, debating her next move, I sprung into action and searched the steps of how to survive an abduction.
Laugh it up if you want, but when it happens to you, the Alien will know you dismissed this information and when you try to backtrack and repent, it will be

GONE.

Here are the events as they occurred: format of a Captain’s log? Yes.
February 28, 2012:
10:15pm: Okay dude, I just got home and when I drove up, I saw a big flash of light behind the barn. Wtf.
10:16pm: Lightening? or Alien?
10:17pm: Freaking Aliens. Okay, just saw another weird light. Still in the car.
10:20pm: Oh my god, oh my god, it’s ET!
10:21pm: OMFG!
10:22pm: What are you going to do?!
10:27pm: I should probably get out of the car.
10:28pm: That might be a start. Step two, in my opinion would be to fashion a hat out of tin foil just in case the aliens try to abduct you!

[After a 30 minute phone conversation of my friend debating getting out of her car, she makes it into her house]

11:03pm: All I have is saran wrap! Maybe I should just put a pot on my head?

That is when I jumped into action! I turned to my trusty tool, ehow.com and searched “surviving an alien abduction”. I picked up a wealth of knowledge on how to survive many an alien attack, up to and including an alien apocalypse, abduction, plain old attack and also how to survive not getting a date to junior prom. The later i found to be irrelevant, but all the information pertaining to aliens I found to be most helpful. If you don’t mind, I am going to share with you some helpful tips and tricks I picked up...

To survive an Alien abduction, you should:
a. Keep calm and fill your head with thoughts about Earth. If the alien trying to abduct you sees how much you love being on Earth, perhaps he will show mercy and NOT abduct you.
b. Don’t let the alien sense your fear. Tell it you do NOT want to go with him loudly and often as the language barrier will be excessive...like a few galaxies or so...
c. Fight back if confronted by the alien. Show it that you are not afraid to become physical if you don’t get your way. Aliens prefer meek victims who won’t throw things at them in dire times.
d. Last but certainly not least, profess to the alien that this is your first time being abducted. Usually, abductees will tell you that they have been abducted by aliens more than once. This is because aliens do not think that they are boring. If you express that this is your first time, perhaps the alien with think you’re boring.

If you were wondering, no,  my friend was not abducted.

You’re welcome, America.

What's your thing?

Everyone has their "thing". Just as Ross Gellar's thing is divorce, or Brangelina's thing is that they have all the kids in Africa, my thing is Murphy's law.
No one just breezes through life. Everyone has to whether the obstacle course of life. The variations of such, however, differ greatly. While some people leap through the starting ring and flounce their way through the bouncy castle obstacle course of life, only wondering about if they remembered to take off their shoes, others are bear-crawling through the mud with the weight of many things clinging onto their neck for added weight. It's not to say the bouncy castle people are being cheated of any real adversity, because please, who hasn't taken a air-filled vinyl protrusion to the face, but they have to constantly compete with someone, whereas the mud-draggers compete purely with themselves. 
Who are you? Bouncy Castle or Mud Dragger? 
My "thing" of Murphy's Law carries over to much of my life. Anything that can go wrong, will. I get sick an unsightly amount, and it's not like a basic cold, or a stomach bug. I fortunately have a stomach of steel, in case you were wondering. Where I do not present to have steel anything is my kidney area. Well, if you count the large pebbles chillaxin' in my kidney as steel (which you probably should) then I formally retract that last statement. The kind of sick I get are the random ones, that you can't see, presenting larger problems than they should. Going to the doctor now, I have quickly learned that it's never just a headache, but its a special type of migraine that is wildly unpredictable, and that it's never just a basic check-up, but it turns to surgery consultation. 
HOWEVER
I do mean to brag when I say that another one of my "things" is I am resilient. I will not be defined by the an inordinate amount of kidney stones or asthma or anything that may briefly set me back. Yes, it is a part of me, but it is not in any way who I am. There are many things that have helped lead me to who I am, but they are not what I am. I am not a kidney stone, I am a person, I bear-crawl and drag the hell out of whatever Murphy's Law decides to toss my way. No matter if you are a bouncer or a mud-crawler, you need to take whatever vinyl rock wall or mud puddle you are given because everything you get is given to you for a reason, even if you haven't figured it out yet... I sure haven't.