Here are this week’s four questions. This week they’re about candy. Hungry now? Check out what others are drooling over here
#1. Candy. Do you prefer sweet or sour candy?
Sweet (all dentists cringe now!)
#2. Gum. Love it? Hate it? What kind is your favorite?
Love it. Peppermint or Sweetmint 0rbit
#3. What is your favorite candy?
Peanut M & M's. Mix of salty sweet
#4. Share a recipe for anything that you can include a piece of candy in.
These are my "Kitchen Sink Cookies". I was trying to clean out my cabinets after holiday entertaining and here is what happened:
1/2 c. brown sugar, packed
1/2 c. white sugar
1 cup flour
1/4 c. instant vanilla pudding mix
1 tsp salt
2 tsp baking powder
1 egg
1/2 c margarine, softened @ room temp (NOT melted!)
1 c. broken pretzel pieces
1 c. chocolate chips
1 c. peanut M&M's
1/2 c old fashioned oats
(can also use 3/4 cup of rice krispies)
Preheat oven to 350
-cream sugars and margerine together, mix in the egg
-combine flour, salt, baking pwdr, pudding mix, and oats- gradually mix into egg mixture. Hand mixing works best with wooden spoon
-add pretzel pieces, choc chips, M&M's
-combine until add-ins are evenly spread throughout dough
-spray a cookie sheet with baking spray: drop 1 TB balls onto cookie sheet, about 12 per sheet: bake for 10-12 minutes, or until dough is starting to "tan"
*it's okay if they aren't perfect balls. The little pretzel bits sticking out the sides, are a perfect sneak peak at what's inside.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
When I Grow Up...
I wanted to be:
A Hairdresser- I'd spent hours doing my friends hair, but wouldn't let a brush/comb touch my curly sue long banana curls. Then I discovered scissors and suddenly my barbies suddenly looked like her
. So blame me, I started the trend.
original photo credit: www.chitchatchica.com
A Teacher- My mom used to find me sitting on the toilet, with the shampoo bottles lined up along the tub edge, speaking to them...uttering some sort of academic verbage. Thankfully, I moved on from shampoo bottles to dolls and my friends. I thought it was SO COOL when my dad brought home a giant, school size, chalk board from his office conference room that was being renovated. I was the only kid on the block with a class room necesity mounted on their playroom wall!
A Cashier- I thought cash registers were so cool. After years of cutting up paper (and killing lots of trees to make fake money and receipts), my parents bought me a REAL cash register like one that made receipts and beeped and chimed. Unfortunately, it didn't come with real money, but a girl can dream, right?
An Archaeologist- Digging up the greatest lost treasures of the world.
Unearthing dinosaur bones. Finding the treasure map that would lead to the hidden chest of gold. Getting the glorious tan outside under the dessert sun. Oh wait! WHAT?!?! I might see a snake? Er, no thanks. I guess I'll stick to the history channel.
A Doctor- trauma surgeon, actually. The rush of adrenaline as the gurney wheels in through the ER door. The rapid "lub-dub" of my heart beating as my beeper goes off...what sort of fun next? The satisfaction of closing up a chest after stopping the gushers from a gunshot wound. Comforting and consoling a family when they fall upon hard times. Wearing scrubs to work every day (so budget friendly)!
An Architect- I must have drafted 20 versions of my dream house. I had grand plans for renovations and additions to my parents house. I'd go on walks through new neighborhoods and browse the real esate section to look at floor plans. I filled 2 sketch books with various homes and designs. One Christmas my parents bought me home design software for the computer. It was my favorite gift that year. we no longer have the computer but under my bed at home is a box filled all my designs and the paint chips of varied color palates and the cut outs of furniture and hardware to outfit my designs.
It's funny how I never dreamt of being a nurse, yet managed to spend $200,000 on an education to become one. At the begging on my junior year in high school, I started to heavily contemplate my future. what did I want to do? What exited me? Where did I see myself? Heavy stuff for a 17 year old. I don't remember when I first considered nursing. But I do know that I got mixed reviews about my choice to attend nursing school.
My guidance counselor, a fabulous mentor, was disappointed. He thought I was settling, "Why not medical school?"
My chemistry teacher, a woman who still inspires me to this day, thought it was great. "Kelly, you are so detail oriented and organized, not to mention your compassion and friendliness, you'll be a wonderful nurse."
My English teacher, the warm and fuzzy grandmother like figure, was thrilled. "Oh good choice Kelly. We know how much you hate grammar and full sentences." (I'll never forget the look on her face. Love you Mrs. B!!)
My friends, people who had seen me at my best and worst, weren't that supportive. "You want to wipe asses all day? Ew, gross."
My aunt and uncle, always jealous over my academic achievements, thought it was just great. Their girls would clearly end up with a better paying job some day.
My best friend S, someone who always called it like she saw it, embraced the idea whole heatedly. She was going to school for OT and we knew that we'd be able to commiserate though biology, chemistry, anatomy and physiology together. She is one of the reasons I made it through.
My parents, my rocks though thick and thin, wanted me to do whatever was going to make me happy. They went to every open house, drove all around the east coast looking at schools, listened to me bitch and moan in fits of indecisiveness, wrote out all those application checks, and didn't think twice about re-mortgaging our house to send me to my top choice school. Without their support I never would have made it though college or even the application process, but when they walked me walk across that stage and receive my diploma they knew all their patience and prayers had paid off. Plus now they had adiploma receipt for their $200,000, even if it was written in Latin and no one knew what the hell it said.
As I approach the one year anniversary at my job and look back, I don't really have any regrets. Being a nurse may not have been what I originally saw myself doing... it's certainly not glamorous, I'm not in it for the money, the hours can be crappy, I deal with a lof of crap (literally)...but at the end of the day I'm learning a lot, meeting great people, making decent money, wearing scrubs to work (take that dry cleaning bills!), and proving to myself that some of life's best adventures aren't the ones you originally saw yourself completing.
A Hairdresser- I'd spent hours doing my friends hair, but wouldn't let a brush/comb touch my curly sue long banana curls. Then I discovered scissors and suddenly my barbies suddenly looked like her
. So blame me, I started the trend.original photo credit: www.chitchatchica.com
A Teacher- My mom used to find me sitting on the toilet, with the shampoo bottles lined up along the tub edge, speaking to them...uttering some sort of academic verbage. Thankfully, I moved on from shampoo bottles to dolls and my friends. I thought it was SO COOL when my dad brought home a giant, school size, chalk board from his office conference room that was being renovated. I was the only kid on the block with a class room necesity mounted on their playroom wall!
A Cashier- I thought cash registers were so cool. After years of cutting up paper (and killing lots of trees to make fake money and receipts), my parents bought me a REAL cash register like one that made receipts and beeped and chimed. Unfortunately, it didn't come with real money, but a girl can dream, right?
An Archaeologist- Digging up the greatest lost treasures of the world.
Unearthing dinosaur bones. Finding the treasure map that would lead to the hidden chest of gold. Getting the glorious tan outside under the dessert sun. Oh wait! WHAT?!?! I might see a snake? Er, no thanks. I guess I'll stick to the history channel.
A Doctor- trauma surgeon, actually. The rush of adrenaline as the gurney wheels in through the ER door. The rapid "lub-dub" of my heart beating as my beeper goes off...what sort of fun next? The satisfaction of closing up a chest after stopping the gushers from a gunshot wound. Comforting and consoling a family when they fall upon hard times. Wearing scrubs to work every day (so budget friendly)!
An Architect- I must have drafted 20 versions of my dream house. I had grand plans for renovations and additions to my parents house. I'd go on walks through new neighborhoods and browse the real esate section to look at floor plans. I filled 2 sketch books with various homes and designs. One Christmas my parents bought me home design software for the computer. It was my favorite gift that year. we no longer have the computer but under my bed at home is a box filled all my designs and the paint chips of varied color palates and the cut outs of furniture and hardware to outfit my designs.
It's funny how I never dreamt of being a nurse, yet managed to spend $200,000 on an education to become one. At the begging on my junior year in high school, I started to heavily contemplate my future. what did I want to do? What exited me? Where did I see myself? Heavy stuff for a 17 year old. I don't remember when I first considered nursing. But I do know that I got mixed reviews about my choice to attend nursing school.
My guidance counselor, a fabulous mentor, was disappointed. He thought I was settling, "Why not medical school?"
My chemistry teacher, a woman who still inspires me to this day, thought it was great. "Kelly, you are so detail oriented and organized, not to mention your compassion and friendliness, you'll be a wonderful nurse."
My English teacher, the warm and fuzzy grandmother like figure, was thrilled. "Oh good choice Kelly. We know how much you hate grammar and full sentences." (I'll never forget the look on her face. Love you Mrs. B!!)
My friends, people who had seen me at my best and worst, weren't that supportive. "You want to wipe asses all day? Ew, gross."
My aunt and uncle, always jealous over my academic achievements, thought it was just great. Their girls would clearly end up with a better paying job some day.
My best friend S, someone who always called it like she saw it, embraced the idea whole heatedly. She was going to school for OT and we knew that we'd be able to commiserate though biology, chemistry, anatomy and physiology together. She is one of the reasons I made it through.
My parents, my rocks though thick and thin, wanted me to do whatever was going to make me happy. They went to every open house, drove all around the east coast looking at schools, listened to me bitch and moan in fits of indecisiveness, wrote out all those application checks, and didn't think twice about re-mortgaging our house to send me to my top choice school. Without their support I never would have made it though college or even the application process, but when they walked me walk across that stage and receive my diploma they knew all their patience and prayers had paid off. Plus now they had a
As I approach the one year anniversary at my job and look back, I don't really have any regrets. Being a nurse may not have been what I originally saw myself doing... it's certainly not glamorous, I'm not in it for the money, the hours can be crappy, I deal with a lof of crap (literally)...but at the end of the day I'm learning a lot, meeting great people, making decent money, wearing scrubs to work (take that dry cleaning bills!), and proving to myself that some of life's best adventures aren't the ones you originally saw yourself completing.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Only In New York
Yesterday in Central Park there was a Transvestite on Roller-skate competition.....absolutely incredible!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Wednesday Night Dinner Club
I hosted WNDC this week.
On the menu:
*Honey Balsamic Rosemary Chicken
*Herb Roasted Potatoes
*Fresh Green Beans
*Tomato, Mozarella, Basil appetizer
*Chocolate Mouse Cake with fresh berries
and Wine...lots of wine Napa Valley Chardonay, Appellation California Pinot Noir, California Zinfandel, Abruzzi Il Bordo, New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc
Next week: Craig is cooking. I think the theme is Greek. Any suggestions for a nice wine pairing?
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Friends in Unexpected Places
It may or may not come as a surprise to you loyal readers that one of the first things I did when I moved to New York, actually even before I moved to New York, was join the gym. An exercise/endorphin junkie, I was thrilled that my apartment was on the same block as my apartment...I swear I didn't plan it!
I've never been one to think of gym time as socializing time. I go to sweat, clear my head, stay healthy, and (okay, I admit it) scout outcute boys hunky men. However, due to the nature of my job, I'm always there during "old people hours". 5am or 2pm...all those Wall Streeters, construction workers, and men in uniform are there at night, too bad! In any case, I'm used to seeing the same crowd. You get to know them, wave a little hello, flash a little smile. Oh, and if I ever mention to an older man or woman that I'm a nurse, I'm either immediately asked a health question, or told some story about "when they were in the hospital." I'm flattered that they are comfortable opening up to a complete stranger, or maybe I'm weirded out. haha.
Because it seemed like a great way tospend thousands of dollars a year get stronger, I hired a personal trainer. We'll call him "G.I. Greg." Greg's sarcastic attitude and humor made my grueling training sessions enjoyable and he helped knock some sense into me..."What are you doing? Is that how we train? Come on, get it together." I started giving him the finger when eh gave me too much shit. He retaliated and every time I raised that middle digits...30 squat jumps. that little finger hasn't waved in the air since December 2007.
We had been training for abbot a month when he showed up to a session with a huge cut from playing football. I gently offered my "professional advice" and he replied, "Why thank you, Nurse Kelly"...and the nick name stuck. G.I. Greg introduced me to Cheryl and we immediately hit it off. She worked in member services and I'd always pop in and say hello or she'd swing through the training area just to say hi.
As the weeks passed, I got to know most all of the other trainers. Or should I say, they all got to know me. I'd be minding my own business,getting all buff, and they'd wave across the gym and say, "Hey Nurse Kelly." Really? This is too funny. Nick names catch on quickly. I'd always share stories from work (the good, the bad, and the ugly) with G.I. Greg while training and naturally, others would hear them and ask questions. It became standing interaction, for them to ask, "Save any lives today Nurse Kelly?" Other gym members would always turn around, puzzled, and then sort of eaves drop.
In January I decided that I was going to channel my running passion and run a marathon. I began to log more and more miles each week; I was loving it. GI Greg was helping me build my core strength but he kept warning me that I was running too much, or running to fast, and not getting enough rest. I wanted to listen to him, but I couldn't. Running was like a drug, and I as hooked. I wold hop out of bed to lace up my shoes and hit the road, or even treadmill belt! G I Greg wold run with me in the park and he introduced me to other running partners
In April I got the bad news, GI Greg was going to be leaving in July for some classified federal training (yes, he has one of those cool protection jobs). We continued to rain, I trekked on. I started hanging out with Cheryl more and more. Her schedule was less hectic in the summer, as she doesn't work for the dance company. We made it a plan to do dinner on Wednesday nights. The first night was the week GI Greg left. Wait, forgot to mention, once Cheryl and GI greg are dating (it all makes sense now!)
The next week, Cheryl introduced me to her friend Gay Craig (LOVE THIS BOY!). Well had an excellent time at dinner that night, sharing stories, being silly, sharing our love of great food and wine. That night we saw Aline, another one of GI Greg's former clients, and she joined us for a drink. Before we knew it, 4 hours had passed and we weredrunk and full done. Cheryl, much like GI Greg calls me Nurse Kelly. However, Craig, after a few glasses of wine decided that he was going to call me Nurse Betty (ya know, from the book and movie?). Aline, on the other hand, insisted on calling me Nurse Kelly.
Craig decided the following week that he wanted to cook on Wednesday night in lieu of going out. We waked over to Cheryl's apartment. We called Aline and she arrived bottle of wine in hand. Without even thinking, we also called Ken-a trainer and friends of GI Greg's, and came over with his wife and their adopale dog phoebe. *Simply a bonus that we all live within 4 blocks of each other* And there you have. The first official meeting of Wednesday Night Dinner Club. Our dynamics are hilarious:
Cheryl- 30 something, dancer/choreographer who works in sales at the gym
Craig- a late 20 something, who proudly makes fun of his Jewish family, works as a stylist by trade andsocializes sells memberships at the gym
Aline- late 40 something with a zest and vigor for life who is absolutely crazy with an amazing husband who tolerates her hanging out with us on Wednesday nights while he plays poker
Ken- 30 something trainer and fitness guru who looks like he stepped of the beaches of Malibu, but is actually a native Long Islander
Lori- Ken's wife, who works in real esates and dablbles in calligraphy, and who sort of crashes WNDC...
Phoebe- Ken and Lori's puppy who is 100% cute, 100% wild, with so many allergies that she sneezes non-stop, and the perfect accent to WNDC.
and me- 20 something year old gym rat , somewhat recent college grad, who loves her job as a nurse and saving lives one hospital bed a time
I never would have thought that such a random group of people could have so much fun! But we do and it only goes to show that you really can find friends in unexpected places.
I've never been one to think of gym time as socializing time. I go to sweat, clear my head, stay healthy, and (okay, I admit it) scout out
Because it seemed like a great way to
We had been training for abbot a month when he showed up to a session with a huge cut from playing football. I gently offered my "professional advice" and he replied, "Why thank you, Nurse Kelly"...and the nick name stuck. G.I. Greg introduced me to Cheryl and we immediately hit it off. She worked in member services and I'd always pop in and say hello or she'd swing through the training area just to say hi.
As the weeks passed, I got to know most all of the other trainers. Or should I say, they all got to know me. I'd be minding my own business,
In January I decided that I was going to channel my running passion and run a marathon. I began to log more and more miles each week; I was loving it. GI Greg was helping me build my core strength but he kept warning me that I was running too much, or running to fast, and not getting enough rest. I wanted to listen to him, but I couldn't. Running was like a drug, and I as hooked. I wold hop out of bed to lace up my shoes and hit the road, or even treadmill belt! G I Greg wold run with me in the park and he introduced me to other running partners
In April I got the bad news, GI Greg was going to be leaving in July for some classified federal training (yes, he has one of those cool protection jobs). We continued to rain, I trekked on. I started hanging out with Cheryl more and more. Her schedule was less hectic in the summer, as she doesn't work for the dance company. We made it a plan to do dinner on Wednesday nights. The first night was the week GI Greg left. Wait, forgot to mention, once Cheryl and GI greg are dating (it all makes sense now!)
The next week, Cheryl introduced me to her friend Gay Craig (LOVE THIS BOY!). Well had an excellent time at dinner that night, sharing stories, being silly, sharing our love of great food and wine. That night we saw Aline, another one of GI Greg's former clients, and she joined us for a drink. Before we knew it, 4 hours had passed and we were
Craig decided the following week that he wanted to cook on Wednesday night in lieu of going out. We waked over to Cheryl's apartment. We called Aline and she arrived bottle of wine in hand. Without even thinking, we also called Ken-a trainer and friends of GI Greg's, and came over with his wife and their adopale dog phoebe. *Simply a bonus that we all live within 4 blocks of each other* And there you have. The first official meeting of Wednesday Night Dinner Club. Our dynamics are hilarious:
Cheryl- 30 something, dancer/choreographer who works in sales at the gym
Craig- a late 20 something, who proudly makes fun of his Jewish family, works as a stylist by trade and
Aline- late 40 something with a zest and vigor for life who is absolutely crazy with an amazing husband who tolerates her hanging out with us on Wednesday nights while he plays poker
Ken- 30 something trainer and fitness guru who looks like he stepped of the beaches of Malibu, but is actually a native Long Islander
Lori- Ken's wife, who works in real esates and dablbles in calligraphy, and who sort of crashes WNDC...
Phoebe- Ken and Lori's puppy who is 100% cute, 100% wild, with so many allergies that she sneezes non-stop, and the perfect accent to WNDC.
and me- 20 something year old gym rat , somewhat recent college grad, who loves her job as a nurse and saving lives one hospital bed a time
I never would have thought that such a random group of people could have so much fun! But we do and it only goes to show that you really can find friends in unexpected places.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Four Foods on Friday: Baking Style
Here are this week’s four questions. This week Valmg is asking us about baking.
#1. When you need to serve desserts, do you buy them or make them?
Depends on the size of the party. I can make a few cookies, cakes, pies, etc....but when it comes to entertaining the masses, I might need to hire a little "help"
#2. When baking do you use butter, margarine or something else?
Depends. Butter for things that need to crisp or flaky and margarine for anything soft and chewy. I never cook with shortening.
#3. What meats or veggies do you cook in the oven?
Potatoes. It's the only way to get that soft center and crispy outside. yumm!
#4. Share a recipe for anything that is cooked in an oven.
Maple Roasted Fennel a WH0LE F00DS creation
this makes an excellent starter, or to cleanse the palate. Added bonus is the fragrance of these items marrying in the oven
8 fennel bulbs, trimmed and rinsed, outside layers removed
1/3 cup maple syrup
1 tablespoon water
sea salt, to taste
ground pepper, to taste
Preheat oven to 350°F. Halve fennel bulbs through the root. Slice halves thinly through the root to hold the slices together. Arrange slices on a parchment-lined rimmed baking sheet without overcrowding them. You may need to do these in batches or use several baking sheets.
Combine maple syrup and water in a small bowl. Lightly brush each fennel slice with this mixture and season with salt and pepper. Turn each slice and repeat brushing and seasoning on other side. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes, until fennel is lightly browned. Remove from oven and turn all slices. Bake 8 to 10 minutes longer, until fennel is tender. Remove and serve immediately.
#1. When you need to serve desserts, do you buy them or make them?
Depends on the size of the party. I can make a few cookies, cakes, pies, etc....but when it comes to entertaining the masses, I might need to hire a little "help"
#2. When baking do you use butter, margarine or something else?
Depends. Butter for things that need to crisp or flaky and margarine for anything soft and chewy. I never cook with shortening.
#3. What meats or veggies do you cook in the oven?
Potatoes. It's the only way to get that soft center and crispy outside. yumm!
#4. Share a recipe for anything that is cooked in an oven.
Maple Roasted Fennel a WH0LE F00DS creation
this makes an excellent starter, or to cleanse the palate. Added bonus is the fragrance of these items marrying in the oven
8 fennel bulbs, trimmed and rinsed, outside layers removed
1/3 cup maple syrup
1 tablespoon water
sea salt, to taste
ground pepper, to taste
Preheat oven to 350°F. Halve fennel bulbs through the root. Slice halves thinly through the root to hold the slices together. Arrange slices on a parchment-lined rimmed baking sheet without overcrowding them. You may need to do these in batches or use several baking sheets.
Combine maple syrup and water in a small bowl. Lightly brush each fennel slice with this mixture and season with salt and pepper. Turn each slice and repeat brushing and seasoning on other side. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes, until fennel is lightly browned. Remove from oven and turn all slices. Bake 8 to 10 minutes longer, until fennel is tender. Remove and serve immediately.
Monday, July 21, 2008
criteria for the "+1"
Did you ever have a conversation that by the end left you thinking, "What? How did we up on this topic?" Last night was one of those nights. I went out last night with G, our friend-his fraternity brother J, and their other frat brother M, who just got engaged to E. last week; They've been dating for seven years. Earlier in the day, they had all been at the Y@nkees game and were too tired and sweaty to go out to a fancy dinner, so we settled on a local bar for beers and appetizers. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was that I hadn't eaten all day but my beer was do delicious, I finished it before the boys. But that's not the point.
Back to my story.
Okay, so M &E are getting married. By some serendipitous fluke, both of their parents have the same wedding anniversary, so that date in September is the obvious choice. However, they are looking at 2009, so they've got a good 14 months. Before we left for the bar, I thoroughly enjoyed sitting by and watching G & J giggle and smile with excitement as they talked about thebachelor party wedding. And then we got onto the topic of dates, ya know the special "+1" that comes on the invites.
The group was giving J a lot of shit and jokingly told him that he has 14 months to find the +1. We suggested that he begin his hunt "tonight." And with that he looked down at his shorts and said. "Does this mean I shouldn't 'mesh it' to the bar". Simultaneously we all said, "Yeah. You might want to change out of the mesh gym shorts." J goes into his room and comes out, trying to put on a belt; however, we notice that he's missing a button on the shorts. He told us, "Well the other day I ate some chicken wings, sat down, and POP...off it came." He then patted his belly in a oh so maternal kind of way and turned to reach for another pair of shorts in his closet. But what do you know! 2 more pairs, without buttons. So either J needs to go on a diet, or find a girl who sews. Speaking of finding a girl, once we were at the bar, and all had a few drinks in us, we asked J to make a list of deal breakers when it comes to a girl. Brace yourself, here we go:
1. non-smoker
2. Piercing: only ears and belly button
3. Tattoos: preferably not, but a tasteful, discretely placed would be okay
4. Must love meat
5. Must be willing to "rub his belly" (apparently its okay if this doesn't occur on date #1)
6. Not skinny, he likes a little "something to grab"
7. Jewish, ideally, although he did say he'd take a normal non Jew, to an ugly Jew
8. Must have 2 boobs, uniboob won't do. Really? haha
9. brunette, then blonde. Guess, there are too many red headed Jews?
10. Likes Loves Beer
11. Can cook
12. Likes to spoon AND have sex
13. in relationship to #13, he's willing to wait a while
14. Would want to go to a Mets/Yankees game with him, but if he got tickets to a Sox/Yankees game she'd tell him to go with friends
15.Willing to hang with the guys
and there you have it. J's criteria for his "+1". So if you know any female ages 20-24, that fit the above criteria, and are free in September 2009...be sure they inquire. haha
Back to my story.
Okay, so M &E are getting married. By some serendipitous fluke, both of their parents have the same wedding anniversary, so that date in September is the obvious choice. However, they are looking at 2009, so they've got a good 14 months. Before we left for the bar, I thoroughly enjoyed sitting by and watching G & J giggle and smile with excitement as they talked about the
The group was giving J a lot of shit and jokingly told him that he has 14 months to find the +1. We suggested that he begin his hunt "tonight." And with that he looked down at his shorts and said. "Does this mean I shouldn't 'mesh it' to the bar". Simultaneously we all said, "Yeah. You might want to change out of the mesh gym shorts." J goes into his room and comes out, trying to put on a belt; however, we notice that he's missing a button on the shorts. He told us, "Well the other day I ate some chicken wings, sat down, and POP...off it came." He then patted his belly in a oh so maternal kind of way and turned to reach for another pair of shorts in his closet. But what do you know! 2 more pairs, without buttons. So either J needs to go on a diet, or find a girl who sews. Speaking of finding a girl, once we were at the bar, and all had a few drinks in us, we asked J to make a list of deal breakers when it comes to a girl. Brace yourself, here we go:
1. non-smoker
2. Piercing: only ears and belly button
3. Tattoos: preferably not, but a tasteful, discretely placed would be okay
4. Must love meat
5. Must be willing to "rub his belly" (apparently its okay if this doesn't occur on date #1)
6. Not skinny, he likes a little "something to grab"
7. Jewish, ideally, although he did say he'd take a normal non Jew, to an ugly Jew
8. Must have 2 boobs, uniboob won't do. Really? haha
9. brunette, then blonde. Guess, there are too many red headed Jews?
10. Likes Loves Beer
11. Can cook
12. Likes to spoon AND have sex
13. in relationship to #13, he's willing to wait a while
14. Would want to go to a Mets/Yankees game with him, but if he got tickets to a Sox/Yankees game she'd tell him to go with friends
15.Willing to hang with the guys
and there you have it. J's criteria for his "+1". So if you know any female ages 20-24, that fit the above criteria, and are free in September 2009...be sure they inquire. haha
Saturday, July 19, 2008
To Fill In My Past
Looking back over my blog entries, I noticed a trend...I really haven't written much about boys and dating (or lack there of). There are a few scattered posts, but nothing significant. When I started this blog, 2 years ago, it was a way for me to chronicle my adventures through senior year of college and recollect fond memories from the previous three years. I've half-heartedly stuck to my plan; however, now this blog is more of a personal diary, if you consider "personal" that which is read by people who I don't know and maybe never will.
God, I'm off topic again. Yes, back to dating. I figured that I'd start to fill in some of the gaps. This way it's on record for me and you can be entertained, maybe.
When this blog was born, a rather interesting summer had just ended. Let me take you back there…
At the end of my junior year I was seeing a boy in the med school. I thought all was great, especially seeing as I was staying in Philly over the summer to work at CHOP. What I failed to recognize was that he was essentially in school all summer going back and fourth to clinical sites, just like I had been all school year. We spent some great time together, conversation was incredible, and let's just say that he was a good host in the few days when I was homeless in between apartment leases. However, then he went out to , PA and we were apart for a few weeks. I was working at the hospital, so it was common for us to play phone tag. At first, the calls still came, but then they were less and less. On July 2nd, I actually managed to get a hold of him on the phone. He asked me my plans for the 4th and I said that I was planning on heading down to the fireworks and street fair with some friends. I asked him the same question. He mumbled something about meeting up with friends for a bbq later in the day. I could sense a distance in his voice, but he told me was just exhausted. He asked if I wanted to meet up for brunch on the morning of the 4th. Odd? I thought, but agreed.
I had that feeling in the pit of my stomach that something was up, but I tried to let it go.
I got up early on the 4th and went for a long run...yes, in the 90 degree heat. I needed to de-stress. He arrived at my apartment around 11 and came to the back door. I welcomed him in, offered him a drink, and a seat. He sort of looked nervous, hands in pockets, rocking back and forth in his shoes and quickly suggested that we go grab some food. We walked up the block to M@rathon and were quickly seated… next to 2 of his friends. I got the sense he wanted to move our seats, but the restaurant was busy. He was sort of an a$$. He said hi to his friends and gabbed for a minute. He didn't introduce me. I introduced myself, "Hi, I'm Kelly." He followed with, "Oh, yeah, um...my fri...she's in the nursing school."
Smooth, real smooth.
We ordered our food and made small talk, a huge change from the great conversation usually shared between us. I thought I was going to be sick. I knew where this was going and I just wanted it to be done. SAY IT ALREADY!
Then the bill came. Don't get me wrong, chivalry has a time and place, but this is modern day and I have no problem paying for my own food. I always offer. However, he had never let me pay before, so it did surprise me when I pulled out my money and he said, "Well, can you leave $15?" Uh, okay.
We got up and walked out. No hand holding, barely a door hold. We walked back, briskly, to my apartment and, again, I invited him inside. We sat on my futon and conversation seemed painful. And then he turned to me and said, "Soo...I'm not sure how you feel, but I've done a lot of thinking, especially since I was away..."
Wait, are we defining this 'relationship' or ending it?
"And what I realized is that, I don't have the time to give you....that you deserve...for this relationship"
I swallowed hard, "Uh, hunh."
"I think you're great, but we are at different points in our life. We're both just so busy, ya know?"
So now he's deciding that I'm too busy? Okay, whatever. But wait, did he just do that? He actually defined and ended the 'relationship’ in the same breath. Never heard that one before.
He looked at me and said, "This is okay with you, right?"
Erg, how do you respond to that? I'm assuming it's more of a rhetorical question.
"I understand. We've each got our own stuff going on…” I took a deep breath.
"Really? Great!"
He then attempted to go on and make normal conversation. I was hurt and really just wanted to ask him to leave. I could only hold back the tears for so long and swallow the lump in the throat so many times.
After a seemingly eternal five minutes, he got up and left. No hug, no hand shake, just the head nod (yes, the head buck forward that seems almost gangsta).
He left, I closed the door, curled up in bed, and cried. Why I was upset. It's not like we were dating, or that it had been clearly established. But as I let the tears roll, I realized I was upset because I was sad. I had every right to be sad. I lost a friend and felt like the above transpired events were one sided. Maybe I wished I could have spoken my mind, maybe not.
I've always been a quiet person. Not emotionless, but quiet. I’m a thinker and listener. I take it all in and analyze it…then I speak my mind. I'd forgo an argument if it seemed pointless. I believe we are all entitled to our own opinions and why argue over a minute point if you know you'll never change their mind, that they will see your lips move but be mute to the sound. I kept wondering, should I have said something? Would I have felt better?
In the end, it all worked out for the best. I was lucky enough to be surrounded by a great group of friends that night who didn't let me sulk in solitude. They dragged me out and we had a fantastic night watching the fireworks, rain showers and all.
After a few days, the sting subsided, and I went about my life. Good friends, great memories, and fear not, a few other boys came along that summer. A few months into senior year, I bumped into the boy and we had a great conversation. We decided to meet for lunch the next day. (Am I a glutton for punishment? Maybe.) We talked about the rest of the summer, his clinical rotations, my clinical rotations, his thoughts on residency, my thoughts on moving to the Big Apple and passing my boards. He seemed happy and secure, as was I. And at that moment, I knew I had made the right choice months before. He hadn't ended our fling to spite me, he did it for himself, and I'm okay with that. In this world that we live in, sometimes you just have to do what's right for you, because you know yourself best. He needed to take the time to get his plans figured out and didn’t want to deal with splitting his time. Note* I may have better perspective now on why we broke it off, but he could still use a few tips on how to let someone down in a more precise and less drawn out manner.
God, I'm off topic again. Yes, back to dating. I figured that I'd start to fill in some of the gaps. This way it's on record for me and you can be entertained, maybe.
When this blog was born, a rather interesting summer had just ended. Let me take you back there…
At the end of my junior year I was seeing a boy in the med school. I thought all was great, especially seeing as I was staying in Philly over the summer to work at CHOP. What I failed to recognize was that he was essentially in school all summer going back and fourth to clinical sites, just like I had been all school year. We spent some great time together, conversation was incredible, and let's just say that he was a good host in the few days when I was homeless in between apartment leases. However, then he went out to , PA and we were apart for a few weeks. I was working at the hospital, so it was common for us to play phone tag. At first, the calls still came, but then they were less and less. On July 2nd, I actually managed to get a hold of him on the phone. He asked me my plans for the 4th and I said that I was planning on heading down to the fireworks and street fair with some friends. I asked him the same question. He mumbled something about meeting up with friends for a bbq later in the day. I could sense a distance in his voice, but he told me was just exhausted. He asked if I wanted to meet up for brunch on the morning of the 4th. Odd? I thought, but agreed.
I had that feeling in the pit of my stomach that something was up, but I tried to let it go.
I got up early on the 4th and went for a long run...yes, in the 90 degree heat. I needed to de-stress. He arrived at my apartment around 11 and came to the back door. I welcomed him in, offered him a drink, and a seat. He sort of looked nervous, hands in pockets, rocking back and forth in his shoes and quickly suggested that we go grab some food. We walked up the block to M@rathon and were quickly seated… next to 2 of his friends. I got the sense he wanted to move our seats, but the restaurant was busy. He was sort of an a$$. He said hi to his friends and gabbed for a minute. He didn't introduce me. I introduced myself, "Hi, I'm Kelly." He followed with, "Oh, yeah, um...my fri...she's in the nursing school."
Smooth, real smooth.
We ordered our food and made small talk, a huge change from the great conversation usually shared between us. I thought I was going to be sick. I knew where this was going and I just wanted it to be done. SAY IT ALREADY!
Then the bill came. Don't get me wrong, chivalry has a time and place, but this is modern day and I have no problem paying for my own food. I always offer. However, he had never let me pay before, so it did surprise me when I pulled out my money and he said, "Well, can you leave $15?" Uh, okay.
We got up and walked out. No hand holding, barely a door hold. We walked back, briskly, to my apartment and, again, I invited him inside. We sat on my futon and conversation seemed painful. And then he turned to me and said, "Soo...I'm not sure how you feel, but I've done a lot of thinking, especially since I was away..."
Wait, are we defining this 'relationship' or ending it?
"And what I realized is that, I don't have the time to give you....that you deserve...for this relationship"
I swallowed hard, "Uh, hunh."
"I think you're great, but we are at different points in our life. We're both just so busy, ya know?"
So now he's deciding that I'm too busy? Okay, whatever. But wait, did he just do that? He actually defined and ended the 'relationship’ in the same breath. Never heard that one before.
He looked at me and said, "This is okay with you, right?"
Erg, how do you respond to that? I'm assuming it's more of a rhetorical question.
"I understand. We've each got our own stuff going on…” I took a deep breath.
"Really? Great!"
He then attempted to go on and make normal conversation. I was hurt and really just wanted to ask him to leave. I could only hold back the tears for so long and swallow the lump in the throat so many times.
After a seemingly eternal five minutes, he got up and left. No hug, no hand shake, just the head nod (yes, the head buck forward that seems almost gangsta).
He left, I closed the door, curled up in bed, and cried. Why I was upset. It's not like we were dating, or that it had been clearly established. But as I let the tears roll, I realized I was upset because I was sad. I had every right to be sad. I lost a friend and felt like the above transpired events were one sided. Maybe I wished I could have spoken my mind, maybe not.
I've always been a quiet person. Not emotionless, but quiet. I’m a thinker and listener. I take it all in and analyze it…then I speak my mind. I'd forgo an argument if it seemed pointless. I believe we are all entitled to our own opinions and why argue over a minute point if you know you'll never change their mind, that they will see your lips move but be mute to the sound. I kept wondering, should I have said something? Would I have felt better?
In the end, it all worked out for the best. I was lucky enough to be surrounded by a great group of friends that night who didn't let me sulk in solitude. They dragged me out and we had a fantastic night watching the fireworks, rain showers and all.
After a few days, the sting subsided, and I went about my life. Good friends, great memories, and fear not, a few other boys came along that summer. A few months into senior year, I bumped into the boy and we had a great conversation. We decided to meet for lunch the next day. (Am I a glutton for punishment? Maybe.) We talked about the rest of the summer, his clinical rotations, my clinical rotations, his thoughts on residency, my thoughts on moving to the Big Apple and passing my boards. He seemed happy and secure, as was I. And at that moment, I knew I had made the right choice months before. He hadn't ended our fling to spite me, he did it for himself, and I'm okay with that. In this world that we live in, sometimes you just have to do what's right for you, because you know yourself best. He needed to take the time to get his plans figured out and didn’t want to deal with splitting his time. Note* I may have better perspective now on why we broke it off, but he could still use a few tips on how to let someone down in a more precise and less drawn out manner.
Friday, July 18, 2008
It's Friday! And This Is My Four Foods Post
According to Valmg, "If you’ve got a working sniffer you can play". So why don't you hop on over to her blog and check out this meme!
#1. Fruits and veggies. Do you prefer them peeled or not?
Unpeeled, but they need to be thoroughtly washed. I use this fruit and veggie wash.
#2. What’s your favorite fresh fruit or vegetable smell?
It's a tie between pineapple and oragnes
#3. What’s the worst food smell you’ve ever smelled?
Olives. I love shopping in the gourmet/specialty food shops, but I have to run through the fresh olive section. Makes me want to heave.
#4. Share the recipe for the dish that you love to smell cooking in your oven.
Dutch Apple Cake: inspired by an allrecipes.com recpe
3 apples - peeled, cored and cut into thin wedges
3 tablespoons white sugar
2tablespoons brown sugar
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/2 cup raisins
3 cups all-purpose flour
3 teaspoons baking powder
2 cups white sugar
4 eggs
1 cup vegetable oil
2 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2/3 cup fresh orange juice
DIRECTIONS
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease and flour a 10 inch Bundt pan. In a medium bowl, combine the apples, raisins, 5 tablespoons sugar and cinnamon. Set aside.
Sift together the flour and baking powder; set aside. In a large bowl, mix together the eggs and sugar. Stir in the oil, vanilla and orange juice, mixing until blended. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and pour in the orange juice mixture. Stir just until combined.
Layer batter and apple mixture in the prepared pan, beginning and ending with the batter. Bake in the preheated oven for 70 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean. Allow to cool.
#1. Fruits and veggies. Do you prefer them peeled or not?
Unpeeled, but they need to be thoroughtly washed. I use this fruit and veggie wash.
#2. What’s your favorite fresh fruit or vegetable smell?
It's a tie between pineapple and oragnes
#3. What’s the worst food smell you’ve ever smelled?
Olives. I love shopping in the gourmet/specialty food shops, but I have to run through the fresh olive section. Makes me want to heave.
#4. Share the recipe for the dish that you love to smell cooking in your oven.
Dutch Apple Cake: inspired by an allrecipes.com recpe
3 apples - peeled, cored and cut into thin wedges
3 tablespoons white sugar
2tablespoons brown sugar
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/2 cup raisins
3 cups all-purpose flour
3 teaspoons baking powder
2 cups white sugar
4 eggs
1 cup vegetable oil
2 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2/3 cup fresh orange juice
DIRECTIONS
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease and flour a 10 inch Bundt pan. In a medium bowl, combine the apples, raisins, 5 tablespoons sugar and cinnamon. Set aside.
Sift together the flour and baking powder; set aside. In a large bowl, mix together the eggs and sugar. Stir in the oil, vanilla and orange juice, mixing until blended. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and pour in the orange juice mixture. Stir just until combined.
Layer batter and apple mixture in the prepared pan, beginning and ending with the batter. Bake in the preheated oven for 70 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean. Allow to cool.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
The Diagnosis Is... (the grammatically correct version)
I know you have all been dying in suspense (oh no wait, that was me) but on Thursday I finally found out what's wrong with me. Like I mentioned in this post, the doctor was 99% sure that I had stress fracture in the neck of femur aka a hip fracture. I had the MRI and then had to wait 2 weeks to get the results.
My appointment was for 9:30 am Thursday morning. All day Wednesday my mind was in a fog and I couldn't focus. I guess I didn't make the best choice by going out and getting a bit tipsy that night, but I thought it would help me sleep. Erg, WRONG. I fell asleep immediately upon crawling into bed, but was wide awake 3 hours later with my mind running a thousand miles an hour.
I think I managed to dose off around 6:30 a.m., only to be waken by my alarm at 8:15. I jumped out of bed, took a quick shower, and got dressed. I felt like a bipolar person. MY mind was all over the place, vacillating from good to bad back to good and then to awful. At 9, I walked out the door and made the 4 block walk to the doctors office. Within minutes I was called into the room and I sat there-on the crisp white paper- in the cotton hospital shorts, my legs so white they blended in with the paper, my heart racing. Dr. M knocked on the door and came in. He heartily shook my hand and asked how I was feeling. I told that I was feeling slightly better, but that the pain was still there.
Silence....God I hate that!
He logged into the computer and pulled up my MRI. He spent a minute trying to orient me to my anatomy but all I heard was "blah blah blah blah....bone should be black....blah blah blah....all this is white, that's inflammation"
Okay, now I needed to focus. I put my best listening ears on (ouy, I've been babysitting too much lately, haha) and then he said, "So much to my surprise your femur is okay...."
Wahwhoooooo! Horray! Yes, sweet! Oh yeah baby!
"But see this here..."
wait, is he still talking? was that a "but"
"That's your pubic ramus and that's a mighty big fracture."
My stomach came up my throat and my heart sank.
"What this tell us is that you are one tough cookie. Most people with this injury can barely walk, let alone continue to train."
I had to compose myself and fight back tears. The conversation that followed left me so upset. Basically I'm on activity restriction for another 4 weeks, my September marathon is out, and this upcoming week I have to go have a DEXA scan done.
This battle is just beginning. Now that we have a diagnosis, we need to figure out why it happened. My PT evaluation already revealed a substantially weakened left side, but it's more a chicken or the egg question. Is it weak because it's injured, or did the weakness lead to the injury. The bone scan will show the condition of my bones, yet another test I'm dreading. Once I get those results, I'll have a better idea of where I stand.
However, it's odd that I find myself in this predicament. I've known for over 7 years that I have low bone density. One of the treatments for LBD is weight bearing activity (strength training and impact activities) but I already do those. I also take a calcium supplement. I'm sure you have all seen the commercials for the osteoporosis medications like Act0nel, B0niva, F0smax, but they aren't approved for women of childbearing age because they have uncertain teratogenic effect on fetuses.
And let's be honest, I don't want to decide, at the ripe old age of 23, that I want to forgo having kid for the sake of a medication that could be obsolete in 10 years.
So where does that leave me? I don't know.
What I do know is that my PT regimen is grueling. I hurt so much afterwards, I want to cry. I also know that this injury has forced me back into the pool, something that I never though would happen. I swam competitively for 12 years but gave it up college; I haven't set foot in lane lined pool since high school. My reasons for leaving swimming behind are for another post, but I found myself in tears yesterday when I went to the store to buy a cap and goggles.
Today I made the emotional plunge back into the pool. After PT I made my way to the locker room, suited up, walked out onto the deck, and then stood at the edge of the pool. I grabbed a kick board, pull buoy, paddles, and fins. I jumped in and just started to swim. After less than 25 yards, it felt like I had never left the pool. My upper body still carried my stoke, I still preferred breathing to my left side, I still stroked with my left hand right preceding a flip turn...
My body didn't ache like when I'd be out of swimming shape in between seasons, but I felt sore, from using different muscles. I swam for about an hour and by the end I was tired; however, I didn't want to stop. Something in me wanted to keep going, keep pushing. I was tired and sore, but not in agony. Wait, something is wrong with that mentality. I'm never going to get better if I keep pushing to injury. I'm an addict, an endorphin junkie. Working out, the endorphin high, and the stress release is like crack to an addict.
Sigh....
Now, off to work, and let the waiting begin (again)
My appointment was for 9:30 am Thursday morning. All day Wednesday my mind was in a fog and I couldn't focus. I guess I didn't make the best choice by going out and getting a bit tipsy that night, but I thought it would help me sleep. Erg, WRONG. I fell asleep immediately upon crawling into bed, but was wide awake 3 hours later with my mind running a thousand miles an hour.
I think I managed to dose off around 6:30 a.m., only to be waken by my alarm at 8:15. I jumped out of bed, took a quick shower, and got dressed. I felt like a bipolar person. MY mind was all over the place, vacillating from good to bad back to good and then to awful. At 9, I walked out the door and made the 4 block walk to the doctors office. Within minutes I was called into the room and I sat there-on the crisp white paper- in the cotton hospital shorts, my legs so white they blended in with the paper, my heart racing. Dr. M knocked on the door and came in. He heartily shook my hand and asked how I was feeling. I told that I was feeling slightly better, but that the pain was still there.
Silence....God I hate that!
He logged into the computer and pulled up my MRI. He spent a minute trying to orient me to my anatomy but all I heard was "blah blah blah blah....bone should be black....blah blah blah....all this is white, that's inflammation"
Okay, now I needed to focus. I put my best listening ears on (ouy, I've been babysitting too much lately, haha) and then he said, "So much to my surprise your femur is okay...."
Wahwhoooooo! Horray! Yes, sweet! Oh yeah baby!
"But see this here..."
wait, is he still talking? was that a "but"
"That's your pubic ramus and that's a mighty big fracture."
My stomach came up my throat and my heart sank.
"What this tell us is that you are one tough cookie. Most people with this injury can barely walk, let alone continue to train."
I had to compose myself and fight back tears. The conversation that followed left me so upset. Basically I'm on activity restriction for another 4 weeks, my September marathon is out, and this upcoming week I have to go have a DEXA scan done.
This battle is just beginning. Now that we have a diagnosis, we need to figure out why it happened. My PT evaluation already revealed a substantially weakened left side, but it's more a chicken or the egg question. Is it weak because it's injured, or did the weakness lead to the injury. The bone scan will show the condition of my bones, yet another test I'm dreading. Once I get those results, I'll have a better idea of where I stand.
However, it's odd that I find myself in this predicament. I've known for over 7 years that I have low bone density. One of the treatments for LBD is weight bearing activity (strength training and impact activities) but I already do those. I also take a calcium supplement. I'm sure you have all seen the commercials for the osteoporosis medications like Act0nel, B0niva, F0smax, but they aren't approved for women of childbearing age because they have uncertain teratogenic effect on fetuses.
And let's be honest, I don't want to decide, at the ripe old age of 23, that I want to forgo having kid for the sake of a medication that could be obsolete in 10 years.
So where does that leave me? I don't know.
What I do know is that my PT regimen is grueling. I hurt so much afterwards, I want to cry. I also know that this injury has forced me back into the pool, something that I never though would happen. I swam competitively for 12 years but gave it up college; I haven't set foot in lane lined pool since high school. My reasons for leaving swimming behind are for another post, but I found myself in tears yesterday when I went to the store to buy a cap and goggles.
Today I made the emotional plunge back into the pool. After PT I made my way to the locker room, suited up, walked out onto the deck, and then stood at the edge of the pool. I grabbed a kick board, pull buoy, paddles, and fins. I jumped in and just started to swim. After less than 25 yards, it felt like I had never left the pool. My upper body still carried my stoke, I still preferred breathing to my left side, I still stroked with my left hand right preceding a flip turn...
My body didn't ache like when I'd be out of swimming shape in between seasons, but I felt sore, from using different muscles. I swam for about an hour and by the end I was tired; however, I didn't want to stop. Something in me wanted to keep going, keep pushing. I was tired and sore, but not in agony. Wait, something is wrong with that mentality. I'm never going to get better if I keep pushing to injury. I'm an addict, an endorphin junkie. Working out, the endorphin high, and the stress release is like crack to an addict.
Sigh....
Now, off to work, and let the waiting begin (again)
Friday, July 11, 2008
Four Foods on Friday: Party Edition
Want to see how everyone else entertains? Go on over to Valmg's blog and check out Four Foods on Friday week # 30!
#1. Cake. Buttercream, whipped cream or ice cream?
Buttercream frosting is classic in my house.
#2. When entertaining do you use real, paper, plastic or styrofoam dishes?
Real dishes (a few too many accidents with disposable dishwear breaking!)
#3. When hosting a party do you cook, have it catered or go to a restaurant?
99% of the time I cook. Sometimes I'll cheat and have a few dishes made and serve them along with the homemade stuff!
#4. Share a recipe that you frequently serve when having a party.
Spinach Stuffed Portabella Mushroms
Ingredients:
2 cups Parsley
2 teaspoons Garlic
.5 cup choppd Onion
3.5 servings Leaf Spinach, Frozen
2 tablespoons Olive Oil
2 tablespoons Butter
6 Portabello Mushroom Raw
1 egg
.5 cups Breadcrumbs
1/3 cup Parmesan, Grated Cheese
1/3 cup goat cheese
Instructions:
Portabello mushrooms sauteed in olive oil and butter and placed aside.
Onion cooked until translucent.
Mix the thawed/drained spinach, breadcrumbs, egg, onion, parlsely, cheese, and garlic.
Stuff the Mushrooms stuffed with spinach mixture.
Melt the butter, and lightly drizzle atop the mushroom caps.
Srpinkle goat cheese on top of caps.
Put in 350 degree oven for 40 minutes.
Remove, let cool for 5 minutes, enjoy!
#1. Cake. Buttercream, whipped cream or ice cream?
Buttercream frosting is classic in my house.
#2. When entertaining do you use real, paper, plastic or styrofoam dishes?
Real dishes (a few too many accidents with disposable dishwear breaking!)
#3. When hosting a party do you cook, have it catered or go to a restaurant?
99% of the time I cook. Sometimes I'll cheat and have a few dishes made and serve them along with the homemade stuff!
#4. Share a recipe that you frequently serve when having a party.
Spinach Stuffed Portabella Mushroms
Ingredients:
2 cups Parsley
2 teaspoons Garlic
.5 cup choppd Onion
3.5 servings Leaf Spinach, Frozen
2 tablespoons Olive Oil
2 tablespoons Butter
6 Portabello Mushroom Raw
1 egg
.5 cups Breadcrumbs
1/3 cup Parmesan, Grated Cheese
1/3 cup goat cheese
Instructions:
Portabello mushrooms sauteed in olive oil and butter and placed aside.
Onion cooked until translucent.
Mix the thawed/drained spinach, breadcrumbs, egg, onion, parlsely, cheese, and garlic.
Stuff the Mushrooms stuffed with spinach mixture.
Melt the butter, and lightly drizzle atop the mushroom caps.
Srpinkle goat cheese on top of caps.
Put in 350 degree oven for 40 minutes.
Remove, let cool for 5 minutes, enjoy!
Monday, July 07, 2008
that itch you can't scratch
I finally realized why I have a secret yearning to go back to school. No, it's not that I like having an "excuse" to stay in on Friday nights, that I enjoy being in debt, that I thrive under stress, that I love wearing logo hoodies and flip flops in the middle of winter, but IT IS that sense of being and involvement.
In high school, but even more so, college, I found myself joining more and more groups, attending more meetings that could seemingly git into a day, and of course meeting new people and challenging myself to try new things. It's no hidden fact that I came into my own in college. I was the quiet, well liked over-achiever in high school, but hadn't found that balance of work and play. I worked hard at the expense of play, and when I did play I always felt out of my element.
FLash forward to college... FREEDOM! I didn't know a soul and I was forced to make friends; however, I made friends with people because I wanted to be friends with them, not because we had been in the same school for 12 years and went to church together and played town sports together, etc. I suddenly found myself in a sorority, held elected positions within the organization, was elected secretary of the class of 2007 for three years, worked in student services, volunteered my nursign services in the west Philadelphia community, etc. I could go on, but you get the point.
After graduation, my main focus was studying for and passing the NCLEX; finding an apartment in NYC; starting my job; passing all my additional certifications; settling intot he city. I've been here a year now and all of the aforementioned are done. I still see my friends from college, NYC is a hub for Penn alums, but lately I've found myself checking out grad school more and more frequently. I know I am on defferment at Penn until 2010, but Im still torn if I'll go back. It won't be the same the second time around, and it would mean leaving New York. So if it's not about my friends, or wanting to leave New York, why am I longing to go back to school?
"Ahh, there's the rub". I miss that invovlement. I need to get more involved here. Over the last week, I've done lots of searching and found quite a few groups to join.
1) CHI-O alumna NYC chapter
2) Junior League of NYC
3) Meals on Wheels
I already volunteer at the church and teach sunday school, but I'm still itching for more. Maybe I want to become more well rounded, or maybe I'm just crazy and enjoy being overbooked and super involved. Whatever it is, I've got an itch and it needs scratching. If you have ever found yourself in my shoes, please send along any suggestions or ideas you may have...I can't wait !
thanks and happy monday!
In high school, but even more so, college, I found myself joining more and more groups, attending more meetings that could seemingly git into a day, and of course meeting new people and challenging myself to try new things. It's no hidden fact that I came into my own in college. I was the quiet, well liked over-achiever in high school, but hadn't found that balance of work and play. I worked hard at the expense of play, and when I did play I always felt out of my element.
FLash forward to college... FREEDOM! I didn't know a soul and I was forced to make friends; however, I made friends with people because I wanted to be friends with them, not because we had been in the same school for 12 years and went to church together and played town sports together, etc. I suddenly found myself in a sorority, held elected positions within the organization, was elected secretary of the class of 2007 for three years, worked in student services, volunteered my nursign services in the west Philadelphia community, etc. I could go on, but you get the point.
After graduation, my main focus was studying for and passing the NCLEX; finding an apartment in NYC; starting my job; passing all my additional certifications; settling intot he city. I've been here a year now and all of the aforementioned are done. I still see my friends from college, NYC is a hub for Penn alums, but lately I've found myself checking out grad school more and more frequently. I know I am on defferment at Penn until 2010, but Im still torn if I'll go back. It won't be the same the second time around, and it would mean leaving New York. So if it's not about my friends, or wanting to leave New York, why am I longing to go back to school?
"Ahh, there's the rub". I miss that invovlement. I need to get more involved here. Over the last week, I've done lots of searching and found quite a few groups to join.
1) CHI-O alumna NYC chapter
2) Junior League of NYC
3) Meals on Wheels
I already volunteer at the church and teach sunday school, but I'm still itching for more. Maybe I want to become more well rounded, or maybe I'm just crazy and enjoy being overbooked and super involved. Whatever it is, I've got an itch and it needs scratching. If you have ever found yourself in my shoes, please send along any suggestions or ideas you may have...I can't wait !
thanks and happy monday!
Thursday, July 03, 2008
A little FFoF to kick off Independence Day
Valmg's still at it...posing questions about food, cooking, and eating! If this sounds like something you'd like, join her weekly Four Foods on Friday MEME.
#1. Name your biggest cooking influence.
Curiosity. I swear, the more I think about things, the more I have to try to make and/or recreate
#2. What is your ultimate comfort food?
Oatmeal raisin cookies (soft ones) and my moms' homemade spaghetti sauce [but not together, haha!]
#3. Name one must have tool that you think every kitchen should have.
A vegetable peeler. It's not just for peeling carrots and potatoes anymore! You can peel apples, make fancy chcoclate garnishes, thinly slice cheese, ribbon cut long vegetables. Seriously. it's a wonder tool.
#4. Share a time saving tip.
Mix up your pancake batter in your blender,
then pour right out of your container onto the
griddle. You'll have lump-free batter and lots
less to clean up.
#1. Name your biggest cooking influence.
Curiosity. I swear, the more I think about things, the more I have to try to make and/or recreate
#2. What is your ultimate comfort food?
Oatmeal raisin cookies (soft ones) and my moms' homemade spaghetti sauce [but not together, haha!]
#3. Name one must have tool that you think every kitchen should have.
A vegetable peeler. It's not just for peeling carrots and potatoes anymore! You can peel apples, make fancy chcoclate garnishes, thinly slice cheese, ribbon cut long vegetables. Seriously. it's a wonder tool.
#4. Share a time saving tip.
Mix up your pancake batter in your blender,
then pour right out of your container onto the
griddle. You'll have lump-free batter and lots
less to clean up.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
A Rant of Sorts
I've blogged (many times) about the interesting dynamics of my patients and their situations and circumstances. We have a running joke at work that no normal people get burned. Not quite true; however,the normal ones are usually victim to some freak situations.
At any given time, we have at least two or three homeless people on our unit. I'm not passing judgment, because we are only only just a few paychecks away from being that way our self...
Anyways, this last week I was taking of an undomiciled man, or at least one of temporary transient housing as he liked to call it. I had a really hard time with this man. Not because he was homeless, but because of his behavior.
#1. He refused to shower-he had bugs on him. Not enough peppermint spirits in the supply room to mask this odor
#2 He complains about the food- sorry, forgot to tell you the 5 star chef is on vacation.
#3. After vomiting, he refused to let me remove it. Thought it he might need it later. For what?
#4. Stated reasoning for #3 was that "he might get hungry again later". Are you bulimic or burned?) Sorry, that comment was rather tactless
#5. Patient refused to be washed but requested that I cut his talons toenails. Sorry pal, I didn't bring my chain saw to work today
#6. Peanut butter. He couldn't get enough. He stockpiled it, took it of another person's dirty tray, ate it with his fingers-his dirty, bug laden, fingers
#7. Attitude. When I asked him if he wanted his meds before or after his wound care, he told me to get the "F" out of his room...he'd let me know later. Umm, so I'll take that as a later?
Okay, I just needed to vent and get that off my chest. Thanks for listening.
Some of the odder injuries and/or mechanisms of injuries include:
-sitting on a pot of boiling water
-trying to throw a burning mattress out a porthole window
-Icyhot on the genitals
-man hole steam explosion
-building implosion from gas explosion
-smoking while polyurethaning some wood--POOF!
-smoking in bed, while wearing oxygen
At any given time, we have at least two or three homeless people on our unit. I'm not passing judgment, because we are only only just a few paychecks away from being that way our self...
Anyways, this last week I was taking of an undomiciled man, or at least one of temporary transient housing as he liked to call it. I had a really hard time with this man. Not because he was homeless, but because of his behavior.
#1. He refused to shower-he had bugs on him. Not enough peppermint spirits in the supply room to mask this odor
#2 He complains about the food- sorry, forgot to tell you the 5 star chef is on vacation.
#3. After vomiting, he refused to let me remove it. Thought it he might need it later. For what?
#4. Stated reasoning for #3 was that "he might get hungry again later". Are you bulimic or burned?) Sorry, that comment was rather tactless
#5. Patient refused to be washed but requested that I cut his talons toenails. Sorry pal, I didn't bring my chain saw to work today
#6. Peanut butter. He couldn't get enough. He stockpiled it, took it of another person's dirty tray, ate it with his fingers-his dirty, bug laden, fingers
#7. Attitude. When I asked him if he wanted his meds before or after his wound care, he told me to get the "F" out of his room...he'd let me know later. Umm, so I'll take that as a later?
Okay, I just needed to vent and get that off my chest. Thanks for listening.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Diagnosis ??x??
My vacation has been lovely. Although I only spent 2 1/2 days in Philadelphia, I got to catch up with L, can't believe it'd been a year since I last saw her; went out with G, interesting developments there; got to spend 2 fabulous days with R &J; and now I'm back in NYC trying to tie up all sorts of loose ends. And by loose ends I mean dealing with my inured hip.
About 2 weeks ago, I finished a 13 miler. It was great. I felt strong, my splits were right on target, and I was really looking forward to my week off to get in some long outdoor runs. NOT SO MUCH. My left groin was a little sore after I finished the run, but I had one of my trainers stretch me out and I iced it when I got home. I was bummed when I couldn't run the next day, still sore, but I figured I just overworked it and I'd give it a few days.
After a week of seeing no improvement, actually the pain was worse at times, I decided to go check get acupuncture. I know, I know...I'm a nurse, I'm supposed to put all my eggs in the Western Medicine basket, but I swear, acupuncture works. I used it when I inured my knee 4 years ago, and again last year when I hurt my foot. Okay, after treatment #1, minor relief, still not enough to run. Then I left for Philly. Pain was getting worse. Maybe I shouldn’t have run around on the playground, but what fun is that? In a rather frantic panic, I managed to find a sports medicine orthopedist that specializes in running injuries. I called and said that I was a new patient. They said, "How about July 7th?." I laughed, said, "how about for an acute injury?", and they said, "How's tomorrow 3:30, be here at 2:30." I took it! I told the lady she could have told me I needed to be there at noon and I would have taken the appointment. I guess she didn't find that funny, but I was relieved. I've got a post coming about my fun times in PA, but for the sake of this post, we'll flash forward to me taking the 6:50 train home. After hauling my luggage on the subway and then to my apartment, it was hard to walk by the time I made it to my apartment.
The following day I went to the orthopod. My stomach was all fluttery, I was nervous....feeling of impending doom. Before the doctor even saw me, they sent me to x-ray. The kid who took my x-rays blushed when he asked me if I was pregnant. He must be new...working in the medical field you quickly grow accustomed to naming body parts and talking about their functions (or malfunctions) like second nature. Case in point, I held a candid discussion with a 50 year old patient of mine about if he didn't get out of bed and move, he would continue to remain constipated, the swelling in his scrotum wouldn't go away, and one of his last options was an enema with possible manual disimpaction....clearly the reason I became a nurse.. Oh yeah, so after my x-rays I went back to the waiting room and they called my name. I was led into a bright exam room with an entire wall of articles written by Dr. M on sports injuries. I knew I felt doom for a reason, I picked up the article on hip/groin pain.
I wasn't even 1/2 way through the article when Dr. M, and crew of residents, waltzed in. I gave him the history, told him a bit about my background (I have low bone density related to amenorrhea), and he pursed his lips. He asked me to take off my flip flops (which he then told me I shouldn't be wearing) and hop on each foot. Mission failed!
"From what you are describing and what I'm seeing, I'm 99% sure you have a stress fracture on the neck of your femur.
Even though you cant see anything on the x-ray, that's common with a stress fracture." He explained the mechanics and occurrence of stress fractures: increase in physical activity (apparently 55 miles a week qualifies), bone density (get on board that calcium boat), and body mechanics (hello grandma orthodics!).
WTF, I'm 23 years old! Broken hips are for old ladies, not marathon training nurses.
"I want to send you for an MRI. I'm away next week, so hopefully we can get this done before I go. I'm going to fir your for orthodics, but until we have a definite diagnosis, no running, take it easy. Turn around time with these kind of injuries is about 4-6 weeks. Are you in a calcium supplement? "
"Yes, with Vitamin D."
"Good. Okay. Here's my card, email me with any questions. Great to meet you Kel" (Love how we are already BFF's, right? haha)
I thanked him and sat there, baffled. This sucks ass. I dressed and made my way out to the reception area. The secretary told me that they had to call my insurance to get approval for the MRI, but they'd call me to schedule an appointment.
Later that day my phone rang and it was the MRI suite calling to book my appointment. I managed to snag an appointment for 7pm Thursday. I went and got acupuncture again Wednesday night and spent a lovely night out with friends at a house party. Thursday rolled around and I was a mess. I didn't sleep at all Wednesday night and it showed.
One issue complicating my need for an MRI was my belly button ring. I've had it over 7 years, but never changed it and consequently couldn't get it out. So I searched online and found this tattoo/piercing place in the East Village that seemed decent and had great reviews. Usually my trips to either side of the village involve a taxi ride because they involve dinners and drinks, lots of drinks (some of the best bars around!) but seeing as I was sober as a soldier, I thought I'd take the bus right down 2nd avenue.....big mistake. One hour and 15 minutes later, I arrived at 3rd and 2nd. I I weren't on "activity restriction" I certainly would have walked, you all know my thoughts on public transportation....
I walked in and pleaded my rather obscure request...I didn't want anything pierced or inked, I just wanted help taking something out.
Of course from the second I walked in, I got "the look." Oops, sometimes my preppy, clean cut looks just doesn't work...I certainly looked out of place. Nevertheless, I took a seat and 2 minutes later this guy called my name and introduced himself, "Colby." Hmm, aside from the tattoos from his neck to finer tips, and the huge plugs in his ears, he was sort of cute, great personality too. He easily took out my ring, helped me pick out a new one and told me to come back the next day and he'd put it back in. H even wished me luck on my test before I left. You know what, never judge a person by their means of personal expression...hey, the didn't shun me for being a perky, J.Cr*w plaid wearing girl. I left and limped up a few blocks and wandered around the Union$quare farmers market. I bought some fresh NJ cherries, strawberries, and tomatoes. They may be known as the "Dirty 'Jerz, but there's something in that dirty soil that makes splendid produce, right O?)
Flash forward to that evening. The MRI suite was located in the hospital, only a 5 minute walk from my apartment (no, not my hospital, but the orthopedic specialty hospital we are attached to and affiliated with). I arrived, 15 minutes early, registered and waited. They called me at 7:05, had be changed into a gown and put on the awful hospital socks. I locked my belongings in a locker and waited. The MRI tech led me into the room and I lied down. Good God, this certainly wasn't my idea of a good time. They tape your legs together so you don't move, strap these cameras to you (you sit on one as well), he covered me with a sheet and rattled off my music choices asked me what kind of music I preferred to hear during this test. I think I nearly shocked him when I said, "The Be@tles." I guess he was thinking that someone of my age would declare some sort of rap or hip hop, but I wanted something comforting and listening to the Be@tles reminds me of jamming with my dad in the car, at the beach, working in the yard, washing the car, etc.
The MRI machine makes so much banging and clanging, glad the guy warned me, haha. 75 minutes later, I emerged from the tube and was freed. I sat up and it looked like I peed myself. I had sweated so much my entire back was wet. Gross.
I thanked the man and got dressed. He told me that the turn around time was 2 business days, but after explaining that my doctor was going away, and batting my baby blues at him, he promised that my results would be expedited and that the radiologist would have them read by noon on Friday. I left and called my mom, she was supportive, but no matter what she said, she couldn’t take away my angst and frustration. I went home, talked to M and G on the phone and went to sleep with a little help from my dear friend Ben A Dryl.
Despite the help from my the little friend Ben, I didn't sleep much. I called Dr. M's office at 9:30 Friday morning to get an appointment for later in the day. Well, well, well....the secretary certainly had something up her a$$. She was so rude and despite my calmly explaining the situation about how Dr.M had expressed that he wanted to see me before he left and how I was unsure about my activity restriction especially seeing as I am returning to work this weekend. She told me to email him and say it's urgent. I calmly told her that I already had emailed him and that he hadn't responded. She told me to do it again and that was the best she cold offer. WTF lady, would it kill you to give the man a phone message?
Don't get my wrong, I work in healthcare, I know that patients will say anything to see the doctor (oh the stories and lies I could recite to you) but even if he wouldn't see me, I really just wanted to speak to him. Instead of getting mad, that gets you no where, I calmly hung up and then burst into tears. I typed an email, request a return receipt, flagged it as urgent, put my phone number in it, and hit send. Too much? Maybe.
I ventured back down to the east village to visit my friend Colby and get my belly button ring put back in. I took the subway this time. and had to walk a few blocks, but it sure as hell beat the bus ride! To my surprise when I walked in and asked for Colby, he came out and immediately asked me how my test was. Nice guy, seriously. If you are ever in New York and find yourself in need of piercing or inking, please go visit Colby at ADORNED.
I got home and checked my email, this is what I found:
No Shit? You think ? So in the meantime, it's PT 3x/week, no running, no excess walking, no extra stairs, no non supportive shoes (are you kidding me? It's summer time!!)
Oh boy, time is going to crawl until July 10th.
About 2 weeks ago, I finished a 13 miler. It was great. I felt strong, my splits were right on target, and I was really looking forward to my week off to get in some long outdoor runs. NOT SO MUCH. My left groin was a little sore after I finished the run, but I had one of my trainers stretch me out and I iced it when I got home. I was bummed when I couldn't run the next day, still sore, but I figured I just overworked it and I'd give it a few days.
After a week of seeing no improvement, actually the pain was worse at times, I decided to go check get acupuncture. I know, I know...I'm a nurse, I'm supposed to put all my eggs in the Western Medicine basket, but I swear, acupuncture works. I used it when I inured my knee 4 years ago, and again last year when I hurt my foot. Okay, after treatment #1, minor relief, still not enough to run. Then I left for Philly. Pain was getting worse. Maybe I shouldn’t have run around on the playground, but what fun is that? In a rather frantic panic, I managed to find a sports medicine orthopedist that specializes in running injuries. I called and said that I was a new patient. They said, "How about July 7th?." I laughed, said, "how about for an acute injury?", and they said, "How's tomorrow 3:30, be here at 2:30." I took it! I told the lady she could have told me I needed to be there at noon and I would have taken the appointment. I guess she didn't find that funny, but I was relieved. I've got a post coming about my fun times in PA, but for the sake of this post, we'll flash forward to me taking the 6:50 train home. After hauling my luggage on the subway and then to my apartment, it was hard to walk by the time I made it to my apartment.
The following day I went to the orthopod. My stomach was all fluttery, I was nervous....feeling of impending doom. Before the doctor even saw me, they sent me to x-ray. The kid who took my x-rays blushed when he asked me if I was pregnant. He must be new...working in the medical field you quickly grow accustomed to naming body parts and talking about their functions (or malfunctions) like second nature. Case in point, I held a candid discussion with a 50 year old patient of mine about if he didn't get out of bed and move, he would continue to remain constipated, the swelling in his scrotum wouldn't go away, and one of his last options was an enema with possible manual disimpaction....clearly the reason I became a nurse.. Oh yeah, so after my x-rays I went back to the waiting room and they called my name. I was led into a bright exam room with an entire wall of articles written by Dr. M on sports injuries. I knew I felt doom for a reason, I picked up the article on hip/groin pain.
I wasn't even 1/2 way through the article when Dr. M, and crew of residents, waltzed in. I gave him the history, told him a bit about my background (I have low bone density related to amenorrhea), and he pursed his lips. He asked me to take off my flip flops (which he then told me I shouldn't be wearing) and hop on each foot. Mission failed!
"From what you are describing and what I'm seeing, I'm 99% sure you have a stress fracture on the neck of your femur.
Even though you cant see anything on the x-ray, that's common with a stress fracture." He explained the mechanics and occurrence of stress fractures: increase in physical activity (apparently 55 miles a week qualifies), bone density (get on board that calcium boat), and body mechanics (hello grandma orthodics!).
WTF, I'm 23 years old! Broken hips are for old ladies, not marathon training nurses.
"I want to send you for an MRI. I'm away next week, so hopefully we can get this done before I go. I'm going to fir your for orthodics, but until we have a definite diagnosis, no running, take it easy. Turn around time with these kind of injuries is about 4-6 weeks. Are you in a calcium supplement? "
"Yes, with Vitamin D."
"Good. Okay. Here's my card, email me with any questions. Great to meet you Kel" (Love how we are already BFF's, right? haha)
I thanked him and sat there, baffled. This sucks ass. I dressed and made my way out to the reception area. The secretary told me that they had to call my insurance to get approval for the MRI, but they'd call me to schedule an appointment.
Later that day my phone rang and it was the MRI suite calling to book my appointment. I managed to snag an appointment for 7pm Thursday. I went and got acupuncture again Wednesday night and spent a lovely night out with friends at a house party. Thursday rolled around and I was a mess. I didn't sleep at all Wednesday night and it showed.
One issue complicating my need for an MRI was my belly button ring. I've had it over 7 years, but never changed it and consequently couldn't get it out. So I searched online and found this tattoo/piercing place in the East Village that seemed decent and had great reviews. Usually my trips to either side of the village involve a taxi ride because they involve dinners and drinks, lots of drinks (some of the best bars around!) but seeing as I was sober as a soldier, I thought I'd take the bus right down 2nd avenue.....big mistake. One hour and 15 minutes later, I arrived at 3rd and 2nd. I I weren't on "activity restriction" I certainly would have walked, you all know my thoughts on public transportation....
I walked in and pleaded my rather obscure request...I didn't want anything pierced or inked, I just wanted help taking something out.
Of course from the second I walked in, I got "the look." Oops, sometimes my preppy, clean cut looks just doesn't work...I certainly looked out of place. Nevertheless, I took a seat and 2 minutes later this guy called my name and introduced himself, "Colby." Hmm, aside from the tattoos from his neck to finer tips, and the huge plugs in his ears, he was sort of cute, great personality too. He easily took out my ring, helped me pick out a new one and told me to come back the next day and he'd put it back in. H even wished me luck on my test before I left. You know what, never judge a person by their means of personal expression...hey, the didn't shun me for being a perky, J.Cr*w plaid wearing girl. I left and limped up a few blocks and wandered around the Union$quare farmers market. I bought some fresh NJ cherries, strawberries, and tomatoes. They may be known as the "Dirty 'Jerz, but there's something in that dirty soil that makes splendid produce, right O?)
Flash forward to that evening. The MRI suite was located in the hospital, only a 5 minute walk from my apartment (no, not my hospital, but the orthopedic specialty hospital we are attached to and affiliated with). I arrived, 15 minutes early, registered and waited. They called me at 7:05, had be changed into a gown and put on the awful hospital socks. I locked my belongings in a locker and waited. The MRI tech led me into the room and I lied down. Good God, this certainly wasn't my idea of a good time. They tape your legs together so you don't move, strap these cameras to you (you sit on one as well), he covered me with a sheet and rattled off my music choices asked me what kind of music I preferred to hear during this test. I think I nearly shocked him when I said, "The Be@tles." I guess he was thinking that someone of my age would declare some sort of rap or hip hop, but I wanted something comforting and listening to the Be@tles reminds me of jamming with my dad in the car, at the beach, working in the yard, washing the car, etc.
The MRI machine makes so much banging and clanging, glad the guy warned me, haha. 75 minutes later, I emerged from the tube and was freed. I sat up and it looked like I peed myself. I had sweated so much my entire back was wet. Gross.
I thanked the man and got dressed. He told me that the turn around time was 2 business days, but after explaining that my doctor was going away, and batting my baby blues at him, he promised that my results would be expedited and that the radiologist would have them read by noon on Friday. I left and called my mom, she was supportive, but no matter what she said, she couldn’t take away my angst and frustration. I went home, talked to M and G on the phone and went to sleep with a little help from my dear friend Ben A Dryl.
Despite the help from my the little friend Ben, I didn't sleep much. I called Dr. M's office at 9:30 Friday morning to get an appointment for later in the day. Well, well, well....the secretary certainly had something up her a$$. She was so rude and despite my calmly explaining the situation about how Dr.M had expressed that he wanted to see me before he left and how I was unsure about my activity restriction especially seeing as I am returning to work this weekend. She told me to email him and say it's urgent. I calmly told her that I already had emailed him and that he hadn't responded. She told me to do it again and that was the best she cold offer. WTF lady, would it kill you to give the man a phone message?
Don't get my wrong, I work in healthcare, I know that patients will say anything to see the doctor (oh the stories and lies I could recite to you) but even if he wouldn't see me, I really just wanted to speak to him. Instead of getting mad, that gets you no where, I calmly hung up and then burst into tears. I typed an email, request a return receipt, flagged it as urgent, put my phone number in it, and hit send. Too much? Maybe.
I ventured back down to the east village to visit my friend Colby and get my belly button ring put back in. I took the subway this time. and had to walk a few blocks, but it sure as hell beat the bus ride! To my surprise when I walked in and asked for Colby, he came out and immediately asked me how my test was. Nice guy, seriously. If you are ever in New York and find yourself in need of piercing or inking, please go visit Colby at ADORNED.
I got home and checked my email, this is what I found:
Hi Kel!
Nothing that hurts, no running, ok?
Best!
J^M
J***** ^. M**** MD
Sports Medicine
Hospital for $$
Phone (212) xxx-xxxx
Fax (212) xxx-xxxx
No Shit? You think ? So in the meantime, it's PT 3x/week, no running, no excess walking, no extra stairs, no non supportive shoes (are you kidding me? It's summer time!!)
Oh boy, time is going to crawl until July 10th.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Back At It FFOF
So it's been a few weeks, but it's time to get back to the FFOF meme. Valmg's back to theme questions, here are this weeks:
#1. Name one cookbook, cooking website or food blog that you frequently use.
I love my whole foods cookbook
#2. Do you watch any cooking shows on tv? Which ones?
I'll watch anything on the food network, but I love TopChef on Bravo
#3. Are you in a cooking rut? Name a food or dish that you’d like to find a recipe for.
I'd love a recipe for a summer dessert. I feel like I always go for the standard variety of berries, angelfood cake, coolwhip, pudding
#4. Share a recipe created by somebody else that you haven’t tried but would like to.
This if from one of my favorite blogs, Fat Free Vegan Kitchen. She's so creative and these dishes hearilty satisfy meat eaters alike
Tofu and Vegetables with Lower-Fat Thai Peanut Sauce
14 ounces extra-firm tofu
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 tablespoon vegetable broth
2 carrots
2 medium zucchini
1 pound broccoli
12 basil leaves (or to taste)
4 tablespoons natural creamy peanut butter
1/2-3/4 cup vegetable broth
1/4 cup soymilk (or other non-dairy milk)
1/8 teaspoon coconut extract (or use lite coconut milk instead of soymilk & extract)
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1-2 teaspoons Asian chili sauce (start with less and add more as needed)
1 tablespoon agave nectar
1 teaspoon lime juice
Cut the tofu into about 8 slices; then cut each slice into 4 triangles. Combine about 1 tablespoon soy sauce with 1 tablespoon vegetable broth, dip the tofu in it, coating all sides with marinade, and allow to soak while you preheat the oven to 400F. When the oven is hot, put the tofu triangles onto a non-stick baking sheet or silicone mat and bake for 15 minutes; turn the tofu over and bake for another 15 minutes. Remove from oven.
While the tofu is baking, prepare the vegetables and sauce. Slice the carrots on the diagonal, halve the zucchini lengthwise and cut into half-moons. Chop the broccoli into medium-sized florets. (Other vegetables may be used; aim for about 2-3 pounds total.) Place the vegetables into a large steamer and steam until tender-crisp. (Actually, stop just a little before you think they're done; they will continue to cook in the residual heat.) During the last minute of steaming, toss the basil leaves on top of the vegetables and steam just long enough to wilt.
To make the sauce, heat the peanut butter in a small saucepan over medium heat. Whisk in 1/2 cup vegetable broth. Add the soymilk, coconut extract, soy sauce, chili sauce, and agave nectar, and heat until bubbly. If the mixture seems too thick, add a little more vegetable broth. Add the lime juice just before removing from the heat and serving.
To assemble, place 1/4 of the vegetables on each plate. Top with 1/4 of the tofu and drizzle with 1/4 of the sauce. Garnish with fresh Thai basil if desired.
Tip: Reduce the fat and sodium by using reduced-fat tofu, low-sodium soy sauce, and fat-free soy milk.
#1. Name one cookbook, cooking website or food blog that you frequently use.
I love my whole foods cookbook
#2. Do you watch any cooking shows on tv? Which ones?
I'll watch anything on the food network, but I love TopChef on Bravo
#3. Are you in a cooking rut? Name a food or dish that you’d like to find a recipe for.
I'd love a recipe for a summer dessert. I feel like I always go for the standard variety of berries, angelfood cake, coolwhip, pudding
#4. Share a recipe created by somebody else that you haven’t tried but would like to.
This if from one of my favorite blogs, Fat Free Vegan Kitchen. She's so creative and these dishes hearilty satisfy meat eaters alike
Tofu and Vegetables with Lower-Fat Thai Peanut Sauce
14 ounces extra-firm tofu
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 tablespoon vegetable broth
2 carrots
2 medium zucchini
1 pound broccoli
12 basil leaves (or to taste)
4 tablespoons natural creamy peanut butter
1/2-3/4 cup vegetable broth
1/4 cup soymilk (or other non-dairy milk)
1/8 teaspoon coconut extract (or use lite coconut milk instead of soymilk & extract)
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1-2 teaspoons Asian chili sauce (start with less and add more as needed)
1 tablespoon agave nectar
1 teaspoon lime juice
Cut the tofu into about 8 slices; then cut each slice into 4 triangles. Combine about 1 tablespoon soy sauce with 1 tablespoon vegetable broth, dip the tofu in it, coating all sides with marinade, and allow to soak while you preheat the oven to 400F. When the oven is hot, put the tofu triangles onto a non-stick baking sheet or silicone mat and bake for 15 minutes; turn the tofu over and bake for another 15 minutes. Remove from oven.
While the tofu is baking, prepare the vegetables and sauce. Slice the carrots on the diagonal, halve the zucchini lengthwise and cut into half-moons. Chop the broccoli into medium-sized florets. (Other vegetables may be used; aim for about 2-3 pounds total.) Place the vegetables into a large steamer and steam until tender-crisp. (Actually, stop just a little before you think they're done; they will continue to cook in the residual heat.) During the last minute of steaming, toss the basil leaves on top of the vegetables and steam just long enough to wilt.
To make the sauce, heat the peanut butter in a small saucepan over medium heat. Whisk in 1/2 cup vegetable broth. Add the soymilk, coconut extract, soy sauce, chili sauce, and agave nectar, and heat until bubbly. If the mixture seems too thick, add a little more vegetable broth. Add the lime juice just before removing from the heat and serving.
To assemble, place 1/4 of the vegetables on each plate. Top with 1/4 of the tofu and drizzle with 1/4 of the sauce. Garnish with fresh Thai basil if desired.
Tip: Reduce the fat and sodium by using reduced-fat tofu, low-sodium soy sauce, and fat-free soy milk.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Difficult Questions
The burn unit is full of some sick patients right now, it's draining the staff. We go from very low acuity to very high acuity in literally minutes...all it takes is one spark and POOF! suddenly we are full.
As if the high acuity isn't enough, as the weather gets nicer more and more people are calling out "sick". Have I ever mentioned how much this urks me? I've been at my job almost a year and despite having 12 sick days to use, I've never called out. Sorry, I'm going off topic.
Back to my story. Last weekend I admitted a 74 year old man with a history of hypertension, diabetes, BPH, and end stage renal disease (ESRD). A few years ago, he agreed to having a fistula
placed "just in case" he ever needed it. Why someone with ESRD didn't start dialysis, I'm not sure, but I wasn't there. We admitted him for a 4% 3rd degree burn to his left lower leg after he spilled hot water on his leg/foot. His diabetic neuropathy prevented him from realizing how bad the burn was and delayed seeking treatment until his family noticed his skin sloughing and oozing through his pants a few days later.
During his admission history, he seemed a bit foggy, slow to speak, and unsure of himself. The son and patent's sister accompanied him and they were very pushy and quick to answer for the patient. I kindly reminded them that I was asking the patient the questions, but that I would be happy to allow them to fill in the missing details at the end of history.
Come to find out the patient agreed to get the fistula, but the family persuaded him not to start dialysis because it wouldn't be convenient (for him? or them? WTF). I drew his baseline labs and inserted a nice fat IV into his right forearm (always a feeling of success!). When his labs came back, I was floored. His BUN and creatinine were sky high, no wonder this man was foggy mentally. I suggested to the fellow that we get a renal consult and we did. However, the family remained adamant that they didn't want the man to have dialysis. Normally, we would defer to the patient, but by the time he was seen by renal the following morning, he was lethargic and barely arousable.
Follow up labs showed even grimmer results; this man was in an acute flair of chronic renal failure. In 24 hours he had made only 100cc's or urine. As a baseline comparison, you and I make at least 1000cc's of urine a day. The patient was exuding a horrendous odor-acetone/uremic breath. Urine was essentially circulating throughout his body. My 3rd day taking care of the man, he was really decompensating. His leg needed to go to the operating room, the skin looked like this; however, until he was hemodynamicaly stable he wasn't going anywhere. To make matters worse, this mans lungs were filling up with fluid. He had coarse rales and crackles (click to listen). When the family finally arrived in the afternoon, it was the first time I saw even a glimmer of concern...maybe that's because he was gurgling, lethargic, and only responsive to pain.
I had already discussed with the attending surgeons and residents the need to possibly go though the ethics committee to get this man dialysis, but thankfully we didn't have to go there. The family agreed to emergent dialysis. We set up dialysis for that night. When I came back the following morning, the patient looked slightly better...no longer gurgling, and was at least oriented to self. Apparently when dialysis is first initiated they like to complete 2 sessions in less than 24 hours, so less than 30 minutes into my shift, dialysis arrived and set up in the room. We figured that we'd take advantage of dialysis and transfuse the patient with 2 units of blood, seeing his hematacrit and hemoglobin were also alarmingly low, but we didn't want to give him excess volume. The blood arrived and we followed protocol to a "T". We performed the 2 RN check 3 ways confirming the patient, the donor, the type, the expiration....all set and ready to go!
Being that I work in an ICU, our patients are continuously hooked up the he monitors, but I still never wander far when they are receiving blood. I initiated the infusion protocol for vital signs. The patient remained stable throughout the first 65 minutes of the infusion. Just as the first unit of blood was finishing up, I noticed the patent's heart rate shoot up into the 140's, his systolic blood pressure was 190, and he was breathing at a rate of 45 breaths/min. The patient was minimally responsive and posturing, but not like what you would see with a seizure. His fists were clenched and he was rigoring.
I yelled for the resident to come in. I grabbed my stereoscope and listened to his lungs, immediately thinking that he might have threw a clot resulting in a pulmonary embolism, but his lungs sounds were no worse than before. We immediately stopped dialysis, I ran and got the EKG machine and did one STAT, we drew an ABG, got a chest xray, threw the patient on a 100% non-rebreather face mask. I ran and grabbed the intubation box and the code cart...wasn't quite sure where this one was going. We all remained in the room and stood by. We sent off STAT labs and waited. We were ready to intubate if the patient lost his airway, but within 7 minutes, his HR slowly decreased and his BP's creped back down. We avoided giving any medications to control the heart rate because we wanted to rule out MI. 20 minutes after the patients condition seemed to be resolving, I did a follow up EKG. It looked better than the first one, as that one showed some ST wave depression.
Whew, good thing I wore my strong deodorant to work! Recognizing that this could have been a delayed reaction to the blood (delayed due to the dialysis) I drew repeat labs and sent them to the blood bank as well as filled out the possible reaction paperwork. Things settled down but I still watched this man like a hawk (did I mention that I had 2 other patients to care for?) The remainder of the afternoon was uneventful until the family showed up.
*Oh yeah, forgot to mention that when all of this was going down in the morning the son happened to call. When we asked him to clarify his fathers DNR/DNI status, he didn't even seen concerned. If you were told that you parent was possibly about to be intubated, wouldn't you try and come to the hospital or at least call and follow up? *
The family hadn't been there 10 minutes when the patient suddenly began gurgling and breathing very shallowly again: 7 breaths/min, 6 breaths/min....oh boy, I know where this is going. I stood by and roused the patient. He would breathe at a rate of 10-12. That's when one of the sisters called me out into the hallway, frantically, and asked the loaded question: "Are we loosing him?" The look of fear and dread in her face was immense. I wanted to look at her and yell, "Well if you hadn't been so selfish an let the poor man get dialysis, we could have avoided this!" I took in a slow deep breath, put my hand on her shoulder and said, "I wouldn't say that. Like most of the patients here, your brother is sick, but he's in the best place possible for someone with his condition. I understand that as his family, it must be very difficult to sit back and see your loved one look so helpless and sick. But this is our job, we do this everyday. I'm here to advocate for your brother, and make sure that he gets the best care possible. We will do whatever we need to provide him with the care h needs for the best possible outcome. I know it's scary, but we encourage you to remain active in the patients plan of care. We're not only here for the patient, but we're here for you as well."
I no sooner finished and thought, did that really just come out of my mouth? haha. I was amazed that I was able to set aside my anger with the family to remain professional.
The family seemed okay and I turned around to go check in on my other patients. However, before I could walk away, the charge nurse and resident came up to me and said, "Well done. you handled that like a veteran."
And that's how my day ended. It seems like I grow into my professional role more and more everyday. Less than a year ago, I was afraid to answer the phone at work, but in just 11 months I've come into my own and learned how to answer the much tougher stuff.
Thanks for reading!
As if the high acuity isn't enough, as the weather gets nicer more and more people are calling out "sick". Have I ever mentioned how much this urks me? I've been at my job almost a year and despite having 12 sick days to use, I've never called out. Sorry, I'm going off topic.
Back to my story. Last weekend I admitted a 74 year old man with a history of hypertension, diabetes, BPH, and end stage renal disease (ESRD). A few years ago, he agreed to having a fistula
placed "just in case" he ever needed it. Why someone with ESRD didn't start dialysis, I'm not sure, but I wasn't there. We admitted him for a 4% 3rd degree burn to his left lower leg after he spilled hot water on his leg/foot. His diabetic neuropathy prevented him from realizing how bad the burn was and delayed seeking treatment until his family noticed his skin sloughing and oozing through his pants a few days later. During his admission history, he seemed a bit foggy, slow to speak, and unsure of himself. The son and patent's sister accompanied him and they were very pushy and quick to answer for the patient. I kindly reminded them that I was asking the patient the questions, but that I would be happy to allow them to fill in the missing details at the end of history.
Come to find out the patient agreed to get the fistula, but the family persuaded him not to start dialysis because it wouldn't be convenient (for him? or them? WTF). I drew his baseline labs and inserted a nice fat IV into his right forearm (always a feeling of success!). When his labs came back, I was floored. His BUN and creatinine were sky high, no wonder this man was foggy mentally. I suggested to the fellow that we get a renal consult and we did. However, the family remained adamant that they didn't want the man to have dialysis. Normally, we would defer to the patient, but by the time he was seen by renal the following morning, he was lethargic and barely arousable.
Follow up labs showed even grimmer results; this man was in an acute flair of chronic renal failure. In 24 hours he had made only 100cc's or urine. As a baseline comparison, you and I make at least 1000cc's of urine a day. The patient was exuding a horrendous odor-acetone/uremic breath. Urine was essentially circulating throughout his body. My 3rd day taking care of the man, he was really decompensating. His leg needed to go to the operating room, the skin looked like this; however, until he was hemodynamicaly stable he wasn't going anywhere. To make matters worse, this mans lungs were filling up with fluid. He had coarse rales and crackles (click to listen). When the family finally arrived in the afternoon, it was the first time I saw even a glimmer of concern...maybe that's because he was gurgling, lethargic, and only responsive to pain.
I had already discussed with the attending surgeons and residents the need to possibly go though the ethics committee to get this man dialysis, but thankfully we didn't have to go there. The family agreed to emergent dialysis. We set up dialysis for that night. When I came back the following morning, the patient looked slightly better...no longer gurgling, and was at least oriented to self. Apparently when dialysis is first initiated they like to complete 2 sessions in less than 24 hours, so less than 30 minutes into my shift, dialysis arrived and set up in the room. We figured that we'd take advantage of dialysis and transfuse the patient with 2 units of blood, seeing his hematacrit and hemoglobin were also alarmingly low, but we didn't want to give him excess volume. The blood arrived and we followed protocol to a "T". We performed the 2 RN check 3 ways confirming the patient, the donor, the type, the expiration....all set and ready to go!
Being that I work in an ICU, our patients are continuously hooked up the he monitors, but I still never wander far when they are receiving blood. I initiated the infusion protocol for vital signs. The patient remained stable throughout the first 65 minutes of the infusion. Just as the first unit of blood was finishing up, I noticed the patent's heart rate shoot up into the 140's, his systolic blood pressure was 190, and he was breathing at a rate of 45 breaths/min. The patient was minimally responsive and posturing, but not like what you would see with a seizure. His fists were clenched and he was rigoring.
I yelled for the resident to come in. I grabbed my stereoscope and listened to his lungs, immediately thinking that he might have threw a clot resulting in a pulmonary embolism, but his lungs sounds were no worse than before. We immediately stopped dialysis, I ran and got the EKG machine and did one STAT, we drew an ABG, got a chest xray, threw the patient on a 100% non-rebreather face mask. I ran and grabbed the intubation box and the code cart...wasn't quite sure where this one was going. We all remained in the room and stood by. We sent off STAT labs and waited. We were ready to intubate if the patient lost his airway, but within 7 minutes, his HR slowly decreased and his BP's creped back down. We avoided giving any medications to control the heart rate because we wanted to rule out MI. 20 minutes after the patients condition seemed to be resolving, I did a follow up EKG. It looked better than the first one, as that one showed some ST wave depression.
Whew, good thing I wore my strong deodorant to work! Recognizing that this could have been a delayed reaction to the blood (delayed due to the dialysis) I drew repeat labs and sent them to the blood bank as well as filled out the possible reaction paperwork. Things settled down but I still watched this man like a hawk (did I mention that I had 2 other patients to care for?) The remainder of the afternoon was uneventful until the family showed up.
*Oh yeah, forgot to mention that when all of this was going down in the morning the son happened to call. When we asked him to clarify his fathers DNR/DNI status, he didn't even seen concerned. If you were told that you parent was possibly about to be intubated, wouldn't you try and come to the hospital or at least call and follow up? *
The family hadn't been there 10 minutes when the patient suddenly began gurgling and breathing very shallowly again: 7 breaths/min, 6 breaths/min....oh boy, I know where this is going. I stood by and roused the patient. He would breathe at a rate of 10-12. That's when one of the sisters called me out into the hallway, frantically, and asked the loaded question: "Are we loosing him?" The look of fear and dread in her face was immense. I wanted to look at her and yell, "Well if you hadn't been so selfish an let the poor man get dialysis, we could have avoided this!" I took in a slow deep breath, put my hand on her shoulder and said, "I wouldn't say that. Like most of the patients here, your brother is sick, but he's in the best place possible for someone with his condition. I understand that as his family, it must be very difficult to sit back and see your loved one look so helpless and sick. But this is our job, we do this everyday. I'm here to advocate for your brother, and make sure that he gets the best care possible. We will do whatever we need to provide him with the care h needs for the best possible outcome. I know it's scary, but we encourage you to remain active in the patients plan of care. We're not only here for the patient, but we're here for you as well."
I no sooner finished and thought, did that really just come out of my mouth? haha. I was amazed that I was able to set aside my anger with the family to remain professional.
The family seemed okay and I turned around to go check in on my other patients. However, before I could walk away, the charge nurse and resident came up to me and said, "Well done. you handled that like a veteran."
And that's how my day ended. It seems like I grow into my professional role more and more everyday. Less than a year ago, I was afraid to answer the phone at work, but in just 11 months I've come into my own and learned how to answer the much tougher stuff.
Thanks for reading!
Thursday, June 19, 2008
so much to do, no time to wait, i'm late! i'm late, i'm late!
I thought that working days would really free up my schedule...not so much.
Work has been busier than ever, not to mention some other developments in my life, good don't worry, but they are for another post. I have a good 5 posts that are still in their draft form, maybe this week I'll get around to polishing them. How will I do that? I'M ON VACATION THIS WEEK! Kicking the week off with a trip to Philly to some friends and of course spend a few days with the L's! Other than that, I'm planning on enjoying sleeping in, lounging in the park, reading some books, trying out some new recipes (my "to try" list is busting at the seams), and maybe get around to planning a winter vacation!
stay tuned, more good stuff to come!
Work has been busier than ever, not to mention some other developments in my life, good don't worry, but they are for another post. I have a good 5 posts that are still in their draft form, maybe this week I'll get around to polishing them. How will I do that? I'M ON VACATION THIS WEEK! Kicking the week off with a trip to Philly to some friends and of course spend a few days with the L's! Other than that, I'm planning on enjoying sleeping in, lounging in the park, reading some books, trying out some new recipes (my "to try" list is busting at the seams), and maybe get around to planning a winter vacation!
stay tuned, more good stuff to come!
Friday, June 06, 2008
Four Foods on Friday, # 32
It's that time of the week again...are you going to play this time? Pop on over to Valmg's blog and join in on the fun.
#1. What snacks do you eat at the movies? Do you buy them there or bring your own?I usually just bring along a sliced up apple and bottle of water. I love popcorn but hate how it makes me even hungrier! If I need something really sweet, I'll buy some raisinettes.
#2. What’s your favorite food movie, or movie that shows a lot of food? Never gave it much thought; however, as far as TV goes I love TOP CHEF on BRAVO.
#3. What food or meal do you wish was available at the movies and why?
It's sort of hard to eat a "meal" at the movies...no table + the dark + cramped quarters= recipe for disaster (well at least if you are me, haha). I'm pretty content with just having snacks, but I'd love some chocolate covered strawberries. yum!
#4. What’s your most favorite way to make popcorn? Hot, cold, buttered, air, microwave, chocolate, caramel, you get it.
Air popped, fresh, with a little bit of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter Spray and salt.
#1. What snacks do you eat at the movies? Do you buy them there or bring your own?I usually just bring along a sliced up apple and bottle of water. I love popcorn but hate how it makes me even hungrier! If I need something really sweet, I'll buy some raisinettes.
#2. What’s your favorite food movie, or movie that shows a lot of food? Never gave it much thought; however, as far as TV goes I love TOP CHEF on BRAVO.
#3. What food or meal do you wish was available at the movies and why?
It's sort of hard to eat a "meal" at the movies...no table + the dark + cramped quarters= recipe for disaster (well at least if you are me, haha). I'm pretty content with just having snacks, but I'd love some chocolate covered strawberries. yum!
#4. What’s your most favorite way to make popcorn? Hot, cold, buttered, air, microwave, chocolate, caramel, you get it.
Air popped, fresh, with a little bit of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter Spray and salt.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Kitchen Mishap
When I couldn't sleep last night, I was blog lurking (so creepy, I know). I stumbled across Food Nerd and saw this contest that she's hosting. She wants to hear about your kitchen/cooking/baking mishaps. I thought I'd play along, so happy reading.
My mom comes from a family of five kids. To make the holidays easier, they rotate who hosts each holiday. Seven years ago my mom's younger brother (B) and his wife (D) were hosting thanksgiving. D is slightly anal retentive and type A (who does that remind you of?!?!) so holidays at their house always resembled something out of M*rth@ Stew@rt Living . They had recently redone with kitchen, gourmet and lovely, but there had been a problem with the oven. They had a cook top with a seperate oven, but somehow an oven-meant to be a wall mount, got installed. Picture this: really low to the ground, on the smaller side, not practical. That being said, it clearly wouldn't do for hosting a holiday for 25.
B & D's neighbors were away for the holiday and graciously offered up their ovens (they had a double wall mount). D took full advantage of this and sent the men (i.e. my dad and 3 uncles) over to their house to turn on the oven and put in the turkey. Not thinking much of it, she went about cooking. She used her oven to warm things like potatoes, pies, veggies, etc. She was very busy in her kitchen so she kept sending the guys over to baste the turkey, etc.
As the hours passed, then men kept drinking, D kept cooking, the crowd was getting hungry. About the time the turkey should have been done, D was putting the veggies and potatoes back into the oven to warm them up. That's when she got the call. D had sent my mom over to the house to get the turkey (the men were too engrossed in the football game). Then guys had turned on the top oven and put the turkey in the bottom oven. Now as I mentioned, the oven in D's kitchen was really low to the ground. She left the veggies and potatoes on the door to answer the phone and got a little distracted...actually I'm pretty sure she flew off the handle and this is what we heard, "B! What the F***. @&#$*$ $*$(#(#* $*$$)$$, You totally #&#(#$& this all up. " She no sooner stopped yelling, but then turned around to see the dog, devouring the veggies and potatoes off the oven door.
Words cannot describe her facial expression. I cannot comfortably repeat what she uttered. My dad fixed D a very dirty martini and we pulled out the takeout menus. Definitely the one and only time in my life, I've eaten Chinese food on Faberage China. Don't worry D, I don't think M@rtha reads this blog...she won't think any less of you.
If you want to share your tales of kitchen mishaps, go here and play.
My mom comes from a family of five kids. To make the holidays easier, they rotate who hosts each holiday. Seven years ago my mom's younger brother (B) and his wife (D) were hosting thanksgiving. D is slightly anal retentive and type A (who does that remind you of?!?!) so holidays at their house always resembled something out of M*rth@ Stew@rt Living . They had recently redone with kitchen, gourmet and lovely, but there had been a problem with the oven. They had a cook top with a seperate oven, but somehow an oven-meant to be a wall mount, got installed. Picture this: really low to the ground, on the smaller side, not practical. That being said, it clearly wouldn't do for hosting a holiday for 25.
B & D's neighbors were away for the holiday and graciously offered up their ovens (they had a double wall mount). D took full advantage of this and sent the men (i.e. my dad and 3 uncles) over to their house to turn on the oven and put in the turkey. Not thinking much of it, she went about cooking. She used her oven to warm things like potatoes, pies, veggies, etc. She was very busy in her kitchen so she kept sending the guys over to baste the turkey, etc.
As the hours passed, then men kept drinking, D kept cooking, the crowd was getting hungry. About the time the turkey should have been done, D was putting the veggies and potatoes back into the oven to warm them up. That's when she got the call. D had sent my mom over to the house to get the turkey (the men were too engrossed in the football game). Then guys had turned on the top oven and put the turkey in the bottom oven. Now as I mentioned, the oven in D's kitchen was really low to the ground. She left the veggies and potatoes on the door to answer the phone and got a little distracted...actually I'm pretty sure she flew off the handle and this is what we heard, "B! What the F***. @&#$*$ $*$(#(#* $*$$)$$, You totally #&#(#$& this all up. " She no sooner stopped yelling, but then turned around to see the dog, devouring the veggies and potatoes off the oven door.
Words cannot describe her facial expression. I cannot comfortably repeat what she uttered. My dad fixed D a very dirty martini and we pulled out the takeout menus. Definitely the one and only time in my life, I've eaten Chinese food on Faberage China. Don't worry D, I don't think M@rtha reads this blog...she won't think any less of you.
If you want to share your tales of kitchen mishaps, go here and play.
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