Saskia....you are very bright for a woman of your age. In South Africa a woman of your age would have drank herself retarded by now.

Happy 20 + 11 Birfday to Me.

Awesome birthday weekend:

Friday Night

Happy Hour at Stingers for some magic and networking. Dinner at Copper Falls, a ridiculously yummy steakhouse where the owner picked out our steaks and the ribeye was like eating steak-flavored butter. So tender, so melt-in-your-mouth, so mmmmmmmm. Complimented by a fantastic Sticky Toffee Pudding dessert (you'd think I got out of the stupid singing at the table in a nice steakhouse but NO........) and a romantic run through a torrential rainstorm.

Saturday

Slept in till noon (what? shut it.). Intentions to hang out at the Margaritaville waterslide were rebuffed by the nasty rainclouds; instead spent the day being lazy in bed watching Youtube videos documenting the decline of a Pop Icon. Got moving early afternoon for a movie with Kip, chick flick called The Proposal (which was quite funny and showcased once again Betty White's unending humor). After the movie we checked out a very nice restaurant in Camana Bay called Abacus. Excellent atmosphere, saw our first "porn" on the island (a very tasteful photography book of nudes on display at the host area; seems the owner is from Europe, loves nude women, and would make the restaurant topless if he could get away with it) (he would be a gazillionaire if he could pull that of, by the way). After perusing the bookstore trying to find their copy of the naked chicks book bible, we wandered over to the dorms for yummy cake with Medi-Mike and Mr. Beau Beaus.

Sunday

Another lazy sleep-in day (shut it already, alright?). Watched the US get their asses handed to them in a football game they should have won, then yummy dinner at Yoshi (the best sushi on island) with classmates.

Despite the apparent laziness and lack of massive imbibing of libations, this weekend was everything I had hoped for and one of my best on island. Thank you to everyone for their birthday wishes, and thanks to Kip for an awesome 20+11! :)

PS - that quote in the heading is what we decided our South African physio prof would have said if he had been here for my birthday. Instead Kip said it in his best Dr. Roy voice. But it was like good ol' Roy was right there with us.

Muppets on Crack

Last night I was lying in bed, running through my list of things to do today:

Damn I have to go see Hugh The Torturer tomorrow at noon he’s going to ask me why it’s been two weeks since I last saw him and what have I been doing and what fruit have I been eating bananas I haven’t been really motivated to hit the gym but went today because I really wanted a piece of dad’s birthday cake even though it ended up not bring worth the trouble it was sort of dry and the icing just wasn’t up to Publix par not nearly as yummy as the white sugary icing with the fudge cap if it had been that icing I would have eaten cake until I tossed my cookies haha The Bloggess wrote something about tossing cookies and the Cookie Monster oh god remember the Muppets on Crack posters? Those were funny.

Now you have an idea of why it’s hard for me to get to sleep sometimes.

The really bad part was, I was lying there thinking I need to find a copy of the Muppets on Crack for Jenny because she would soooo enjoy that but I was too lazy to lean over and write it down to remember in the morning.

So instead I just lay there chanting to myself: “Muppets on crack. Muppets on crack. Muppets on crack…” It was kind of a creepy marriage between counting sheep and putting a rubber band around my wrist. Except now I have PETA screaming at me for neutering sheep with rubber bands after shooting them up with crack and I can’t remember my point.

Anyhow, here's where I found the Muppets on Crack story. It's pretty hysterical completely uncalled for.

My doctor says my boobs are normal. I beg to differ.

My immigration to The GC required a chest xray (WTF?) to check for Tuberculosis. Because that is just super prevalent here.

Anyhow, I had to get a written report from the doc who read the xray, and this is what I got:

I'm really quite indignant, I wear altogether way too uncomfortable bras & tight T-shirts to be called "Normal".

And to prove this point:

(you might need to click on the pic to see the text. have I mentioned my need for Photoshop?!)

This pic has a double meaning, actually. Not only does it do my chest justice (take that, doc.), but it also shows my support (*snicker*) for my Rossie peeps who are enjoying some Phun with Pharm today/tonight/tomorrow. You guys are gonna rock it, and then you'll rock finals, and then I'll expect all of you to return your full attention to me. *Ahem.* I mean, have a safe trip home and stuff.

I forgot to include the pic of my "After" unpacking. I figured while I have everything there I should go through all of my clothes and weed out unwearables/threadbare/etc.

I have entirely TOO MUCH CRAP.

Oh, and today I got my Open Water card! Yay!! I'm official and can even dive during my trip with dad next week! Except for that whole find an apartment, open a bank account, get car insurance, meet my new peeps, etc. all within 2 business days. Sooo, maybe we'll just settle for some snorkeling. Or a shore dive. Aw, hell.

I stomped grapes today and my friend Jay told me I'm going to get ringworm.

Technically this is my second post in....well...ten minutes. But really, the other one was written last night and this one was too good to wait, so whatev. Suck it up, my 7 faithful readers!

Today my folks and I mosied over to The Italian Festival in Centro Ybor. Initially the plan was to walk around and gorge ourselves on every yummy thing imaginable and then wander over to the activities tent to cheer on the Animal Coalition of Tampa team at the Grape Stompin Competition.

Then I got the call. JoAnne, flustered (as always), because it seems no one from ACT was going to show up. Ever the team player, she called in her Awesome Backup Group made up of me and her husband. I was informed that I had to leave immediately for the event, no moseying or meandering or wandering allowed.

After lighting a firecracker under my parent's respective asses (i believe today was the first time my father actually called me "annoying".) we set off to the festival. Between parking in the garage and walking to the entrance I received no less than 17 phone calls from JoAnne (well, one from her husband Nestor) frantically wanting to know where exactly I was at that very moment. You know, the moment right after the last time I called.

We arrived at the Stompin site with seconds to spare. JoAnne and I heaped all of our accessories onto my mom, gave my dad the camera, and went to work.

There are really no words I can use to describe the actual contest; well, nothing that is even remotely as amusing as the video. So watch it. Cause it's pretty much awesome.

[NOTE: there is music to this video, so if you are sitting in class ignoring your prof you might want to make sure the mute is on. and if you can, turn it way up. cause it's best when you get the 'whole picture'.]

In conclusion, have a wonderful night. And please don't hate me if you're catholic.

(i only find it mildly amusing to imagine the congragation's faces as they sip "the blood of Christ" and it's a goopy mess of yuck.)

OH! And check out what my mom made for dinner:

Squash Soup Stuff?

Or is it Grape Surprise?

Its PRICELESS, whatever it is.

My mom's new name is Captain Obvious.

Went to dinner and a movie tonight with my folks. Yup. Hot date.

At dinner mom was quite the Witty Woman.

After reviewing the menu:
Mom: What's in the 4-Cheese Ravioli?
Me: Well, there's four cheeses. And they are tucked inside ravioli pasta.
Mom: Huh.

In discussing the makings of a True Cosmo:
Dad: A real cosmo has Contreau. It's like $40 a bottle!
Mom: Well, that's something we get in the duty free.
Me: We'll have to remember to grab a bottle when we're on GC.
Mom: And don't forget you have to pack that in your checked bags, you can't bring it on the plane. They don't like that.
Me: Wow. Thank you Captain Obvious.

Did I ever mention my mom's Lent routine? Each year she gives up wine for Lent. Which would be really honorable if A) we attended church and B) she didn't trade up to Manhattans and Cosmos.

The last time I was in a church that didn't involve European sight-seeing or a wedding was when I was seven. Our family are more like invisible silent worshipers. And who drinks Manhattans anymore? Seriously.

We walked into the movie theater behind a blind guy. I just couldn't help but wonder if he shouldn't be offered a 1/2 price ticket.

Yeah, I'm waiting for the lightning strike from above. Daily.

(But since I'm a invisible silent worshipper, does that mean the lightning will be invisible silent? Cause that's kind of a spooky thought.)

In case you were wondering, we saw the movie Duplicity. It was slow moving, similar in style to the Oceans movies, and starred a very handsome guy with a fantastic accent.

Mmmm. I love me some accents.

Anyhow, I got to thinking as I watched this movie that I would make an absolutely awesome terrible spy. For one thing, I simply cannot keep my mouth shut (fired banned from volunteering ring a bell?). And despite my witty banter I'm really not that great at conning people. I don't bluff. And I forget things easily. Between leaving my hotel room and meeting my mark at the bar, I would completely forget my cover and during my escape when I shed my clothing in an effort to change my appearance I would forget my wallet in the jacket and my cell phone in the purse. Cause that's just the sort of dumbass things I do.

So I guess its a good thing I'm not set on being a spy.

Or am I?

Shoe Size/Penis Size Theory. Denied.

I visited JoAnne again today. She has a theory that my visits create some sort of vortex that brings with it complications. In my last three or four visits there have been interesting occurrences that I really shouldn't write about in a public forum. But what I can share is this:

Check out that freaking paw. And this was a PUPPY.

Proof that foot size does not coincide with penis size. It was pretty sad, actually.

I think I might try going there 2 or 3 days a week now, just to provide her and the staff with unending hilarity and challenges.

PS - I've only had my new Sprint phone/account for one day and I'm already irritated. Stupid picture option requires adding monthly charges just to upload the pics onto Sprint's site for me to download onto my computer. Hence the pretty awful pics above. Whatev.

I solemnly swear that I am up to No Good.

What have I been up to this last week, you ask? (or I assume you ask, which is rather assumptive of me I must say...but let's move on.)

Pretty much a whole lot of nothing.

Um, let's see. Knitting. Dinner with folks. More knitting. Twilight. Dinner with folks and friends. More Twilight. Knitting. New Moon. More dinner. More New Moon. Knitting, Knitting....and more Knitting.

In case you were wondering (again, fairly assumptive), I've finished knitting the gray scarf (gift for ?), made another fabulous cable hat (move over Dr. Danny, this one has magenta and purple!), and began breaking ground on something completely new for me: gloves.

Totally took these pics late at night when I finished the hat. Pretty darn obvious.



Ah look, a Christmas Tree. I soooo 'dislike' Christmas. The songs especially.

(If you choose to comment on this pic, I recommend throwing in a compliment to mom's tree. She reads this thing more than any of you other yahoos.)

I chose this fantastic vintage pattern called Bon Voyage Gloves. Aside from learning cables, this is probably the most dreaded project I could think of...needed something to keep my brain busy.

I admit once you get to the thumb region, my version of the glove is completely "ad libbed" (no use of the pattern really, just thought it out). So far I'm enjoying myself, despite the incredibly small needles/yarn.

Starts out all well and good, with the dainty little cable design.

By the way...if the thumb looks funny to you...I increased a bit about midway because I have the world's widest and stubbiest thumbs known to man. Gloves will forever strangle my thumbs, unless I make them myself and allow for some room. And make them look ridiculous in return.

Seriously. The biggest hands known to man.

My tenacious knitting spirit would not allow me to sleep tonight until I was well over 1/2 fingers complete. I have just finished the index and middle fingers. I am terrible at picking up stitches, I have learned, and thus have nice small holes spattered between my fingers and at my thumb seam. No matter, because I have working fingers!

You can barely tell the imperceptible little obvious seams. Boo.

(Please Note: I have not, in fact, gone to bed before 2am any night since I've been back; however the knitting spirit is not solely to blame. There is also the "Twilight series" spirit, the "late night movies" spirit, etc. Don't blame knitting completely.)

I have also since learned that I have THE WORLD'S LARGEST HANDS known to man. No amount of beautiful, vintage glove patterns will ever change that. Pity.

As of this evening, I have not been contacted by any Hand Modeling Agencies, nor do I expect to be called anytime soon. Guiness Book, perhaps, about the largest hands thing. No modeling, though.

But then did you read about my size TEN jeans?!

Not that I don't amuse you all enough with my posts (again with the assumptions!), I thought I would add some fun little highlights to my post:

A classic considering where I'm waiting out my winter break incarceration.

I'm a thief.

I totally stole this from my friend Jen's MySpace page, but it was just so appropriate I felt the need to post it. I guess being around all of these people who have NO clue what it's like to grow up in Florida, I feel kind of proud that all of these apply to me... (except one: where the heck is Mt. Dora and why should I know that?).

Enjoy! :)

A Floridian
*Socks are only for bowling.
*You never use an umbrella because you know the rain will be over in five minutes.
*A good parking place has nothing to do with distance from the store,but everything to do with shade.
*Your winter coat is made of denim.
*You can tell the difference between fire ant bites and mosquito bites.
*You're younger than thirty but some of your friends are over 65.
*Anything under 70 degrees is chilly.
*You've driven through Yeehaw Junction.
*You know that no other grocery store can compare to Publix.
*Every other house in your neighborhood had blue roofs in 2004-2005.
*You know that any hurricane under a Category 3 just isn't worth waking up for.
*You dread love bug season.
*You are on a first name basis with the Hurricane list. They aren't Hurricane Charley or Hurricane Frances. You know them as Andrew,Charley , Frances , Ivan and Jeanne.
*You know what a snowbird is and when they'll leave.
*You think a six-foot alligator is actually pretty average.
*'Down South' means Key West
*Flip-flops are everyday wear. Shoes are for business meetings and church, but you HAVE worn flip flops to church before. (more than once!)
*You have a drawer full of bathing suits, and one sweatshirt.
*You get annoyed at the tourists who feed seagulls.
*A mountain is any hill 100 feet above sea level.
*You have a bumper sticker: 'This car climbed Mount Dora ', and you know where and what Mt Dora is.
*You know the four seasons really are: hurricane season, love bug season, tourist season and summer.
*You've hosted a hurricane party.
*You can pronounce Okeechobee and Kissimmee ...
*You understand why it's better to have a friend with a boat than have a boat yourself.
*You've worn shorts and used the A/C on Christmas and New Years.
*You recognize Miami-Dade as ' Northern Cuba . '

Sunrise.

I realize the last few blogs have been.....well.....a bit off.

To make up for it, I thought I would share a little story that made me laugh today.

Pre-Story Build Up: As part of our anatomy course, we have 'Palpation's' out at the barn with the horses (live ones, yay!). There we learn how to palpate the bits and pieces we've been cutting up in the lab. We also get tested on this material, typically by pieces of tape placed on the spot in question. The exam we have tomorrow is covering the thoracic and pelvic limbs, thorax, abdomen, and genitalia. A tall order, I know, but it'll be a breeze as compared to today's lab exam (which I think I may have done better on than I feel, but we'll see).

On to The Point: Anyhow, a group of us met with our tutor today at the barn to review all of the points. We left the repro organs for last, and as our horse Ricky was in full-on Kick Mode (even roundhouse side kicks, he's talented) we chose to just 'discuss' the genitalia instead of trying to poke around. We were curious about what they would ask, saying to our tutor that they really could only tag external parts at best.

Well, kids, seems that's not the case. Apparently, Dr. Berg's favorite part to tag is the Glans Clitoris. Which, for those of you non-equine anatomists, happens to be tucked pretty well in there.

Seriously. Every semester. Poor horse. Or maybe...happy horse?

_________________________________________________________________

Funny Dr. Berg Story #2. A first semester student asked him what nerve innervates the glans clitoris....and he responded with Hypoglossal (look that one up if you don't know it, otherwise the joke is just not as funny). Anatomists are Dirty Dirty Dirty.

This one is for my old Interior Design peeps...seriously not as easy as you think.

Just start typing colors into the box given. If you've spelled them correctly according to their database, the word will be accepted automatically and you can just type the next one. Pretty neat test of our Crayola knowledge...

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Created by OnePlusYou - Online Dating Service

How Many Five Year Olds Could You Take in a Fight?

Fun little study break quiz.

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Created by OnePlusYou - Online Dating

I love Balloons.

Thanks again to Kristin#1 for introducing me to these. Seriously folks, I almost choked on lunch laughing at this one.



Classic!



This one is a little long, but seriously...what kind of crack is this guy ON?!!

Mind Warp.

To give you a sense of the significant mind warping our studies produce, please watch the following video with the understanding that it makes us pee in our pants.

Ouch.

My head is about to explode. Seriously.

I know you all tend to feel I may be a little teensy bit overly melodramatic, but it really can happen:
http://mail.rossvet.edu.kn/exchweb/bin/redir.asp?URL=http://www.mit.edu/~mkgray/head-explode.html

Please take note of this line: Victims are highly intelligent people with great powers of concentration.

Also, this one: ...the doctor urges people to take it easy and not think too hard for long periods of time.

As to the test:

A "yes" answer to any three of the following seven questions could mean that you have HCE:

1. Does your head sometimes ache when you think too hard? (Head pain can indicate overloaded brain circuits.) YES
2. Do you ever hear a faint ringing or humming sound in your ears? (It could be the sound of electricity in the skull cavity.) OCCASIONALLY
3. Do you sometimes find yourself unable to get a thought out of your head? (This is a possible sign of too much electrical activity in the cerebral cortex.) OCCASIONALLY
4. Do you spend more than five hours a day reading, balancing your checkbook, or other thoughtful activity? (A common symptom of HCE is a tendency to over-use the brain.) YES
5. When you get angry or frustrated do you feel pressure in your temples? (Friends of people who died of HCE say the victims often complained of head pressure in times of strong emotion.) OCCASIONALLY
6. Do you ever overeat on ice cream, doughnuts and other sweets? (A craving for sugar is typical of people with too much electrical pressure in the cranium.) YES
7. Do you tend to analyze yourself too much? (HCE sufferers are often introspective, "over-thinking" their lives.) YES

As I said, my head is about to explode. I wonder if I can get a nurse's pass from my anatomy exam for that?