weekend lessons

01. Instagramming a picture of a Polaroid does not, in fact, cause the world to implode with awesomeness.

02. On a related note, if you want to be the most popular person in any given location, bring a Polaroid camera. 

03. If someone tells you your bangs look like Zooey Deschanel's, you should pretend they told you everything about you is like Zooey Deschanel and carry a false sense of confidence the entire night.

04. On a related note, singing the best kind of girl is a quirky girl while on public transportation is frowned upon.

05. Starships were meant to fly. If you're still confused, the Goldmine Saloon will be happy to remind you 437565 times. 

06. If you are officially in your late 20s and feeling slightly not okay with that, a great temporary cure is to stand in the middle of a bar belting out "We Are Young" by Fun at the top of your lungs with five of your friends. You're welcome.

What did you learn this weekend?

come on down to Minnesota

When I found out that we were moving, I decided to treat this news -- like I do all things in life -- as if it were  part of The Price is Right. 


Which obviously means that I just won the Minnesota Showcase Showdown! And Y has agreed that we can purchase all of these things! That's a lie!

poster:  Minneapolis neighborhood poster by Ork
blanket: Pendleton
shoes: Minnetonka mocassins
lotion: J.R. Watkins apothecary (which I didn't know was a Minnesota company until I came face to face with a wall full of it at the Mall of America)
dvds: don't think I don't have a whole blog post planned entitled "we're going to make it after all", with the main focus being a picture of me throwing my hat in the air. 
earmuffs: I decided I should buy some kind of ear protection, since people seem to think it's cold in Minnesota for some reason.
bike: in case you weren't aware, Minneapolis recently surpassed Portland as the #1 biking city in the United States. 
Twins shirt: Yes, I'm almost 28. Yes, I still sometimes wear Pink clothing. I also like to pretend my life is a cheesy old game show, and I think that's way weirder. 

Fun with packing

I know most people hate packing.


But in our house, saying "can you wrap Abraham Lincoln?" leads to ten minutes of rapping about our 16th president.


So I think the whole process is kind of fun.

I'll miss you... book club

I'll miss you, book club. 

Whether we're discussing the book,

                 

              

reading our favorite passages aloud ("dickey-bird", Gabriel Garcia Marquez? GROSS.),

trying on each other's glasses and laughing hysterically,

eating New York themed food (like frozen hot chocolate and black and white cookies the size of my face),

or wearing flowers in our hair like true senoritas.

photos from To Kill a Mockingbird, If You Have To Cry Go Outside, and Love in the Time of Cholera.

Laura and I weren't sure we would get any responses when we suggested a book club, let alone 8! I'm definitely going to miss our get togethers, and no one will ever truly replace these girls, but at least now I know more people like to read than I thought.


 We're discussing MWF Seeking BFF next week (with the author Rachel Bertsche joining us via Skype) and I can't wait to share!


Other posts about book club: The Help, The Great Gatsby & Black Heels to Tractor Wheels, Pride and Prejudice.

I'll miss you... archive:

what is it?

roundabout

coffeeshop where everybody knows your name

crape myrtle

corn

movie moments

antique stores

nice people

lunch date 

Counter Culture

Baton Rouge
local radio
New Orleans
mall
Louisiana

Step 1 flashback, Part 2

The second part of my little Step 1 flashback details Y's imaginary conversations, and why medical school is JUST like high school.


Although... While Y was studying for Step 1, I was taking a 4 hour solo road trip to see a Taylor Swift concert. While driving, I learned the words to every song (Hey Stephen was my favorite), and was prepared -- daiquiri in hand, best friends in tow -- to sing along at the top of my lungs. 


And I'm making fun of his life for being like high school.


Click here to read about the parallels of med school and high school and further proof that Step 1 makes you crazy. And click here to read about my night with T-Swizzle. 

Step 1 of the medical boards (from a med school wife's perspective)

This is my blog, and I reserve the right to be lazy.

For the next three days, I'm going to link you to some of my posts from 2010. Step 1, the first part of the medical boards, is coming up and I know a lot of med students are starting to study. Wives of med students are starting to freak out about the excessive amounts of studying.

Y took Step 1 two years ago (before a lot of you found me), and I'll let you in on a little secret: it wasn't that bad. For me, at least. I'm pretty sure Y started going crazy. Here's the proof, in 3 parts:

Part 1: Discussing Flashcards with the Dog, and Other Studying Secrets

Why I deserve a pedicure

If you ask me how I got any of my scars, you'll find my stories sound like excuses from a Lifetime Original Movie. Ran into an open drawer, fell up a flight of two steps, dropped a can of beans on myself. Yesterday as I looked through my closet, a pair of shoes fell off of my shoe rack, their pointy heels scraping my leg as they tumbled to the ground. Tonight I stepped on a metal bookend and sliced open my foot.

You guys, I'm a spaz.

But most of those things happen in the comfort of my own home. The injury pictured above happened in public, and is probably the most embarrassing of all of them. 

It was in the middle of yoga, in a quiet, dimmed room. I was jumping from downward dog to seated, and as my feet whizzed by my arms, I felt a sharp pain in my wrist.

The teacher must have seen me wince, because she stopped teaching and stepped over to my mat. "Are you okay?" she practically screamed. She was trying to be quiet, but it's hard to be quiet in a room where you can hear every time someone's hip joint pops. 

"I'm fine."

"What happened?"

"I... cut my wrist with my toenail." 

"Oh my gosh." I thought it was funny; the teacher looked worried for my life (or possibly disgusted at the mention of a toenail). "Do you need a band aid? We have plenty!"

"I'm fine." 

The next time I looked at my wrist, it was dripping blood. I guess I should have taken her up on that offer. As I reached for my towel to wipe it off, my foot cramped in such a way that I thought it might be deformed forever. I had to sit down to catch my breath. It was a rough few minutes.

After class, the teacher placed her hand on my back as I rolled up my mat. She was sympathetic and soothing, free of judgment. Just like a yoga teacher should be."Are you feeling better?" she asked.

As if I had been out for a week with the flu. As if she were visiting me at the hospital. Not as if I had briefly cut my wrist with my jagged toenail and then gotten an ill-timed foot cramp. 

I'm pretty sure Emily Post would agree that the appropriate greeting after a toenail injury is "Holy shit woman, get a pedicure immediately."