Shaken Not Stirred

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Free Advertising

I don't know why this annoys me, but it does. When a person buys a car from a dealership, somewhere on the car is the dealership's info. It's sometimes painted on the trunk, or on the spare tire covers (like mine is). Shouldn't we as the customers have the choice of whether or not we want to advertise it? And if we chose to, shouldn't we get some sort of discount. It is afterall free advertising.

And I'm so glad that the dealership that I got my car from was classy enough not to paint their name on my car. I like my car and to have some weird paint on it would ruin it. I'll keep the tire cover (although the dealership did offer an extra one at no cost), cause I sort of like the design. The only other proof of the dealership is the nice front plate--which I'll keep cause it's also nice.

But I thought of this while driving behind some other cars and seeing painted on the lower half of the trunks, the names of dealerships. Yes, I know, eyes on the road. I was at a stoplight for most of them. And I don't know why, but it annoyed me. You are paying for a car, it shouldn't have other paint on it--especially paint that you didn't put there.

Speaking of annoying advertising, is anyone else sick of the caveman commercials? I don't get them. I don't even get the saying "So easy even a caveman can do it?". What's so easy, the making of the commercial? Enough already--put it to rest.

Monday, February 26, 2007

Things That Make You Go Hmmm

Well it isn't actually something that would make you go hmmm, but it's making me go hmmmm.

Our house here in Florida has a pool. And I certainly don't swim. I'm still working on my abs before I dare take my shirt off outside the bathroom. Not that anyone would see me shirtless by the pool, since it's enclosed, but still. Plus I don't like the thought of swimming. My nephews and nieces (all under the age of 8) use this pool 24 hours a day,every day, whenever they are down here. And yes, I know there's chlorine and a filtering system, some guy comes every Tuesday to clean it out, but still they are children. Three of them are under the age of 4.

Anyway, I noticed for the several months that I have been here, I've got to add water into this pool. I know that water evaporates. The pool guy once said to me that "it's weird, but I've noticed with many of my clients that water evaporates faster in the winter time". So at first I didn't think anything of putting some water in there monthly. But for some reason the water seemed to evaporate quite quickly. So when the pool guy comes around again, I ask him. He tells me to buy this leak checking kit. I've gotta buy one of these things today.

What I liked was his honesty. He told me that I can basically check for the leak myself--it's this dye that gets swirled around in the pool thru the filtration system and then will point out the leak. He said had I called a pool company they would charge $250 to do the same thing, and that was just for the house call, nevermind the work they would have to do.

Anyway, I digress. The reason I was wondering if there was a leak or not was, "I don't see any cracks at all in the pool. The pool is made of cement and tiles--from where would this water be leaking?

I know, lame topic, but I had to vent. And speaking of peeing in the pool, I do have to read a section of urology. I would ignore this issue, but my nephews and nieces are coming for spring break--and the only way to have a quiet house is to have them outdoors!!

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

I'm The Angel, but It's Her Voice I Like

Honey why are you calling me so late It's kinda hard to talk right now Honey why are you crying, is everything okay? I gotta whisper cause I can't be too loud

It's really good to hear your voice saying my name, it sounds so sweet Coming from the lips of an angel Hearing those words, it makes me weak
"Lips of An Angel" by Hinder

I was thinking about this song because one of my buddy’s girlfriends called me really late last night. She called so late and I was so deep into a dream that when I woke up for a second I was eight and in my Thousand Acre Woods themed bedroom. But the sound of my cellphone snapped me back into 2007. I picked up without checking who it was. It was Lisa (not her real name in case one of my friends is reading this and figures out who is telling me what). She was a little upset about an argument she and Bart (not his real name either) had.

And I wasn't whispering because my girl was in the next room. For the past year, my girl has actually been attached to my wrist, anatomically referred to as the HAND (too much information I know, I just couldn't resist. I was whispering because that's the way you sound at almost 3 a.m.

Personally, I think that Bart is a great guy. He’s smart. He plays tennis and basketball. He rarely drinks but when he does, he offers to buy everyone a round. He is funny. He is well groomed. And he smells good. Maybe I should date Bart-hehe!!

Anyway, Lisa seems to think that he’s got his imperfections. She says he’s a slob. She says that he’s emotionally unavailable (I have yet to figure out what this means). She says that he’s frugal with money (he’s saving up to buy a boat). She says that he doesn’t take her dancing anymore (I didn’t get that cause he never took her dancing). And she went on for a couple more minutes about his faults.

This is not the first late night call I’ve gotten from her. Sometimes she talks about this while we are out and Bart is hanging with some friends on the other end of the table.

Anyway, she said something that stumped me last night. She said “if only he was like you, he’d be perfect”. Okay, so what part of him does she like and what parts of me does she want to give him. I don’t think this is a complement. In fact I almost think it’s a slap in the face, because apart, we are not good enough, but if we were somehow in a sci-fi sort of operation sewn together we’d be the perfect guy.

She talked for another FOREVER and then said it was really good to hear my voice. She felt better. Truth is, it was really good to hear her voice too.

I hung up and fell asleep. I didn’t dream about the Hundred Acre Woods this time.

Monday, February 19, 2007

Not Eating Will Be Good For My Diet

On Friday, I wrote about the peanut butter recall.

This morning on CNN, they announced a recall on ready to eat chicken breast.

As I said on Friday, we may have to go back to a hunting and gathering society. Pfuzzbox suggested "We have a lot of wild pigs and deer in this part of the world. Crazee Tastee and you don't have to worry about where the meat came from". So what do you say folks? Do we take out the bows and arrows?

And this may be certainly good for my diet. With Lent coming up, I can certainly skip some meals. I won't have to step over any field mines at the grocery store. I just won't eat.

And this is news....Brittainy Spears has donned the G.I. Jane look. Why do we care? Or do we?

Friday, February 16, 2007

What's In The Peanut Butter

By the way, I think Lee Ann just has the sniffles, I don't think it was the peanut butter sandwich I shared with her.

Seriously though, what is with all this food poisoning happening? A few months back, I was terrified that Popeye might actually get sick instead of bulk up enough to rescue Olive Oyl. For months I was terrified to eat spinach, and I actually love a good spinach salad or dip. I am still very wary of buying some packaged spinach, even worse with buying it fresh from a farmer's market. So I haven't had my doses of spinach lately.

Then I think it was tacos that had something in them that nauseated everyone. So it wasn't safe to eat out anymore for awhile either.

There has to be a way to better control what goes into market food and the way it's processed. Are we going to go back to hunting and gathering for ourselves?

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Disappearing Toast

A few minutes ago, I felt like having a peanut butter sandwich (on wheat). I've been trying to eat small meals spaced evenly apart as a way of getting fit. One snack which my cousin (who's really into the ABS diet) recommended is peanut butter. So I toasted one slice of wheat and waited for it to pop up. While reading some pediatrics, I heard the toaster, but waited a few minutes before retrieving my toast.

When I got to the kitchen, there was nothing in the toaster. There was nothing on the counter or even on the floor. I was baffled. The toast had fallen between the counter and the fridge (that tiny little space). I have no idea how. I had to use one of those Swifter extensor things to fetch it. Pretty cool that it shot out at an angle that allowed it to go between the fridge and the counter. Just to let you guys know how precise the angle had to be for the toast to shoot up, I measured the space between the counter and fridge--just a tad over 3/8 inches. Cool huh? I remember having to angle things in physics class, but that was in an open lab room.

Anyway, thought I would share that with you!!

Happy Valentine's Day!!
And by the way Lee Ann was the first to say HVD to me, so I'm splitting my peanut butter sandwich with her!!

Monday, February 12, 2007

How To Beat The Flu (not medically proven)

I thought I was fine. On Thursday, I went to the gym and did an extreme workout. Well it was extreme to me, for others it may be just a normal workout. I stepped on a stairmaster and climbed stairs for thirty minutes. I then joined the tae bo class (which lasted for an hour). Punching and kicking, punching and kicking, a really great way to relieve stress. After the tae bo class I used some of the weight machines. I felt so good that I stopped and got a burger on the way home (completely eradicated everything I did at the gym).

After eating the grease and taking a shower, I proceeded to do some practice questions on-line (USMLE World is the way to go and Kaplan q-bank too)!!! When I finished one set, I felt a little queasy. I thought it was the burger. Anyhoo, Scrubs was going to be on, so I put the laptop into hibernate and tuned into NBC. I'm a Grey's fan too, so thank goodness they repeat on Friday nights. After Scrubs, I got up to check the explanations/answers on-line. I felt a little dizzy, but again attributed the nausea to the burger (what the heck do they put in those things). And I felt a little cold. So I threw on a sweatshirt and walked back to my laptop. And then like a ton of bricks all the symptoms hit me--congestion, fever, and cough. What wooodwork did this crawl out from?

So I did what any normal guy would do, I called a chick and whined about not feeling good. The more I whined, the worse it got. She promised to send me a care package (pretty cool huh?). Or for those who you have read my blog before, the chick was my friend Mulan!! You know the chick that I watch television while chit-chatting on the phone with!! Anyway, I went to bed early and still woke up with the icky feeling.

But I decided in my head that I wasn't going to be sick. So I took a shower, fired up the computer and proceed to act like I wasn't. As the day passed, I still felt congested and a little woozy, but not as bad as that witching hour the night before. I went out to dinner with my aunt and uncle and did some more studying.

Saturday came and I still refused to give in, so I did my usual errands and studied with my classmate Maria. Sunday came and "trashed me out again"!! But my Godchild Isabella wanted to go ice skating (her dad is one of my classmates and he was off to Illinois for a medical review) and so I volunteered to take her. Again, fought the sickness.

I think the cure is to act like you don't have the flu, and you ultimately won't be!!

I feel fine again today.

After edit:
P.S. I don't recommend this to anyone!! It just works for me. Seriously folks, if you are feeling ill--please see your physician. Sheesh!

Thursday, February 08, 2007

Making Up Lyrics

Everyone does it, when they don't know the lyrics to a song. There are those lyrics that are said so fast and with the music blaring in the background, you can't understand.

One of my favorite commercials to date is the Verizon ad where the two guys are trying to decipher "Rock The Casbah". They make up all kinds of words in place of the real ones.

For some reason this commercial brought back a memory of late night studying. In my first year of medical school, I would always study at my friend Susan's apartment. A chick's apartment is so much better than studying in your own--right? I mean she's got left-overs from cooking (not cold pizza, not Chinese take-out, or even Hamburger Helper). The apartment is spic-span clean and they have real furniture!!! Why are chick's apartments always much better than the guy's apartments? So anyway, I always chose to study there.

On study breaks, we would either play on the computer or sit around and much on the left-overs (this explains the added pounds I put on). She was talking about one of her best friends Sarah and how this girl would just sing aloud while driving. It didn't matter who was in the car with her, she would sing. If she didn't know the words, she would make some up and sing as if correct.

I know, I know that part of the memory is not my personal memory, but the Verizon commercial made me think of that moment in time.

Just thought I would share that with you.

Monday, February 05, 2007

What A Game!!!

What a game last night huh? I love watching the Superbowl. I have no idea why some people get excited for things like the commercials and half-time show--shouldn't it be all about the game?

I was so excited to join some of my buddies for the game last night, that I couldn't concentrate all day. How's that for A.D.D.? I did all my errands early (I was only required to bring some chips/dip and chicken wings). I worked out early (all thru my work-out all I could think about is how fun watching the game was going to be). My work-out was half-assed. I couldn't even count my reps because all I could think about was the game!!

And my team won!!! The Colts!!

Now, onto other Superbowl activities. If they wanted people to watch the half-time show (which is usually a pee-break for me, refill my plate with meatballs, chicken wings and spinach dip) why have someone like they musical star who use to have a weird name but suddenly became known by a weird symbol, only to go back to his stage name again? When I had heard that he was performing (what do we call him? I don't even know what he wants to be known as) I was happy that I could do all the things that I could normally do during half time. I could socialize with the girlfriends/wives/females in attendance. I could discuss the game with my buddies. I could relieve myself of built up liquids (I didn't drink, but sipped on a lot of soda). I could make another meatball sandwich. All those things!!! And this half-time show seemed soooo frickin long. Everytime I looked back at the screen, all I saw was purple. I don't think I was ever entertained by a half-time show. I even missed Miss Jackson showing her mammary glands because I went on a food run with my buddy. I did get to see it on You Tube or somewhere on the internet.

The point is, what is the point of a half-time show. Does anyone really watch them? I think some of the commercials are actually worth watching, but the show?

Anyway, today I'm really beat. This exhaustion is from all the excitement, all the yelling, all the shoulder slapping, and victory dancing!!! I am trying to study gastro-intestinal diseases. It is an appropriate topic considering what my stomach had to digest yesterday.

Thursday, February 01, 2007

What The F is That Smell?

I went to the library yesterday in hopes to get finished reading Brochert's book. It's taking me longer to read thru it than I had anticipated. It's not that the reading is lengthy, quite the contrary Dr. Brochert has shortened some of the topics concisely without losing any information. Anyway, between doing q-bank and reading Secrets (also by Brochert), I have fallend behind someewhat. So I decided to go to the library and finish the book.

I sat down in a corner which I felt would be conducive for reading. There was enough light coming in from the windows to avoid eye strain. It was also quite a ways from the front door, so I wouldn't hear people entering or exiting the building. And the biggest plus--it was on the opposite side of the children's section, so most of the crying and whining was muffled.

Two hours into my reading, after multitudes of other library patrons have sat and gone from my table. Yes, I tend to get pretty territorial when I'm focused. If I could have made a piss circle around the table I would have. But this would have entailed pulling it out in the library and also leaking juices which should always be properly disposed. Well, approximately two hours into reading, some middle-aged man sat at the table. He was carrying a newspaper and a backpack. The moment he sat down, it overwhelmed me.

This gosh awful smell enveloped the air around me. It was so strong that I coughed. It made my eyes water and was so powerful that I felt it settle on my skin. I tried to ignore this stench. The guy opened his backpack, pulled out a few books and started reading. I thought for awhile this guy might be homeless, but his clothes were clean. His backpack was also clean. He just didn't have that hungry, been sleeping on the streets, came into the library for a little rest look about him. In fact, it looked like he was doing research of some type (I'm thinking something in the English literature department). Can you tell that for a few seconds I forgot about the stench while I analyzed this guy?

Anyway, I needed to get away from that table before I projectile vomited!!! I slowly packed my things (so it didn't look like I was rushing away). I stood up and walked to the other side of the library. And yes, I could hear some kids playing, screaming, crying and shouting. But I couldn't smell the stench anymore (except for in my memory). I got the paranoid feeling that some of it's remnants may have infiltrated some of my stuff.

P.S. I still don't remember what it was I was suppose to write about when I went off on the Grease reality telivision show rant. I did however end up voting for my fellow West Virginian. It will come to me.