an·no·ta·tions

••And On A More Serious Note•

2012-01-20T00:18:00.001-05:00

Finally! Someone asks the question I have been stewing over for months.

"Is it acceptable to answer a phone call with an email?"

I have a friend who does that. ALL. THE. TIME.

Oh, I'm sorry, did I email you? No, I called you.

Makes you feel like the few minutes it would take to look-up your phone number, to actually talk to you is too much for them, or that you're standing with them is too little.

Did they forget that you too had to take that time to look their contact info up and call them.

And if I actually leave a message, seriously?!?!

I understand if your busy, CALL me back later.

I even understand the quick text, that says: in class can't talk now or on the other line, etc. Because my phone actually gives these as phone call auto-rejection options.

I don't think I am the lone victim in this. I think this person does it to most friends.

I think what burns me the most is that when you couple this behavior with other poor friendship things like constantly standing up or canceling on the other person with excuses, expecting them to always come to you, or making them work around your schedule instead of including them into it.

Balanced effort from both sides in maintaining friendships is important.

Especially in our busy multitasked lives. Or for those separated by distance.

Long gone are the days of uniformity.

Of growing up, going to school, marrying, working, and raising a family in the same neighborhood your parents did.

I consider my self a loyal friend.

My frequent flier miles could attest to that.

But man, once you burn bridges, abuse trust, or lose my respect...

Good luck getting me to answer an email.

•••

Just a taste

•••

••LT••

••and so it begins••

2012-01-11T22:34:00.001-05:00

welcome to january. welcome to 2012. what does my little counter down there in the right corner say? as of this typing it says 171 days. That may seem long to you, but considering that it started off saying 1,096....well, you get the point. Thankfully the panic remains at a low simmer, and has not yet reached a boiling over point. I can't believe the true end is so near. the terror of being out there. alone. very alone. no real overhead. no easy walk down the hall to similarly minded colleagues. it is almost too much at times. i am doing my best to stay out of my own head. i made my first list today. the first of many. so many questions. so many needs. so much. all at once. i really hope there's a blueprint. because starting something up from scratch is virtually terrifying. okay let me stop. i'm getting caught up again. we'll come back to this at later date. when i come to grips with reality. when my flaws and faults aren't hopefully glaring in my face with a big flashing red light, saying stop. stop. stop. you're not ready. no choice. must be ready. you are better than this. confidence. that's all you need. see. don't you feel better now?

•Can•You•Hear•The•Bells•

2011-12-06T21:27:00.002-05:00

Ah, December the month o' false greetings, forced gathering and merriment, seasonal affective disorder, and the roulette of holiday celebratory options. My interest in seasonal involvement varies so much from year to year a 10 year old's tic frequency could be my metronome. I attribute it mostly to my severe lack of desire to have to put forth extra effort for just one person, because as much as I'd like to think so, I just don't know that Cheeks appreciates the trimmed, garlanded, and lit, Walmart perma-tree I own. I really went all out one time, about 5 years ago, with printed cards and a tree, just to stop and think on Dec 26- "Hmmm, darn now I gotta put that crap away. And no one else even saw it, what a waste." Sure some may argue that it's just for you and that it can bring brightness to your holidays, but inevitably it just makes me recognize how alone I am. Thanks Charlie Brown tree. As such I think the tree has seen the light of living-room once since then. This year I was resolved to stick with my M.O. [still being single, natch], but wouldn't you know...I've got the itch [no, not that kind]. I blame nostalgia. Every person has some memory that has them harkening back to times of old, be it naughty or nice. My accursed affliction is The Temptations. Every year, my mom would wear out the cassette tape playing the 'Love Comes With Christmas' album. That darn thing is as old as me. Nether the less, those songs I know word for word & whenever one pops up I still conjure some of those warm-fuzzies. Something recently reminded me of the album, and I wouldn't rest until I owned it myself. Well, 40 iTunes dollars, and 3 hours, later I not only have it, but also She & Him's christmas album and some a-cappella group's TWO christmas albums [amongst other non-holiday music]. I can't promise this will lead down the path least travelled [aka Christmas decorations], but you might catch me humming a little ditty. Maybe music is my holiday tradition, and The Holiday.

Oh yeah, and I totally love that my pastor and I are on the same page!

Christmas was today in my world...

And I already got my share....you better believe it. Merry Christmas to me.

=LT=

PS. You know you hail from SoCal, when one of your top 3 holiday songs is- Mi Burrito Sabanero :0)

Things That Go Bump in the Night•••

2011-11-11T01:54:00.001-05:00

Oh Halloween. The one night of the year drag queens get out dressed.

We have a fickle relationship, you and I. Hot and heavy one year, cold and old the next. I was ecstatic about costumes and the whole she-bang back when I was a wee lassie with a candy goal, but alas the curtains have since been pulled back and the great Oz was revealed a fraud. I took me a bit to realize that for the kiddos it was all fun, the sugar high, and dress up...but for more discerning adults it was for fun, disinhibition, and dress less. I, on one hand, have never been one to want to freeze my tuches off. But I do love me a good gimmick in lieu of any serious attempt at seduction [hello, "Miss Most Likely to Crack a Joke During a Choir Concert- 1994"]. So I am often akin to a naive Cady Heron in Mean Girls when she ghouls out for Halloween amongst the leotards and fluffy tails, as I am cheap and hate to plan an outfit in advance, usually throwing on something I own, but remixed. This year was no different, with the decision to dress up occurring approximately 8 hours before actual buffoonery commenced. So after compiling my most obnoxiously colored articles of clothing and raiding my bag of sport props, I was set...

The Ultimate 80s Tennis Playing Aerobics Instructor

I will neither confirm nor deny that I *may* have been drunk singing in that picture.

I think the impromptu shenanigans were a smashing success if the pictures speak for themselves :0)

•••

The Cast of Characters

Cruella and Red. She's either cunning or Vampiric...

I work out. Like totally.

The Witch

Well hello Rainbow Brite... Are you scratch and sniff? Or is that only Strawberry Shortcake?

Well, THERE he is...

'Ozzy' before the bat. I vote he likes it.

Remember that one time Bernie Madoff mated with the Godfather?

Whelp, he is who we got...

The Artist known as the Jack Black...he asked for no photos to protect his notoriety.

Indy and Honey Nut Cheerios Killa Bee

•••

The Scene: H Street Bound on a School Night

Getting into character... note the bat, natch.

•••

The Overture

Earlier that evening..... Da Bee and her pumped up kicks sets a plan in motion...

Da Bee has spotted Red and her goodies....victory! Or so she thinks...

Red, revenge driven and empty basketed, asks 80s to show her a few swinging moves...

En garde. Such great forehand technique. Always protect the basket.

Da Bee attacks again...but they are not fooled...

Smack down ensues...

Da Bee surrenders for the chance to live and play air guitar another day. The End.

Red. Victorious. 'Finds' her man and so begins the wild rumpus!

•••

The Finale

Red's feeling invincible. Indy got owned...

Even Killa Bee is shocked Carmen San Diego was really Rainbow Brite.

Waldo Exposed. Jack White acquiesces. Bernie II in his natural habitat.

Deadmau5 dropped in.

Cruella thinks bat is the new....

Chew toy? Oh, Ozzy...

Open-mouth inebriated photobomb.

•••

The Encore

Get it!

Isn't playing dress up fun?

•••LT•••

**Artist disclaimer- some photos pilfered from the second camera from that night***

•Numbers 5 and 6••

2011-10-22T02:42:00.000-04:00

Who needs to catch the bouquet nowadays? Certainly not me. Do I need some strange single dood, who got stuck with garter as it was kicked towards his feet, try to shimmy it up my leg? No thanks, I'm good. Anyways, I have so much wedding karma stored up from this year alone, I've gotta be 'next' on someone's list, right? I think what it really means is that I was blessed to have not just 1, not 2, but 6 awesome couples want me to be apart of the start of their new journey together. Pretty sweet if you ask me. Jer, Sandy, Inessa and Steve wind down and wrap up my wedding bonanza that was this past 8 months. Great memories, Great Friends. Fun Pics. :0)

•••••
The Place: Omaha, St. John's Chapel, Creighton
The Date: Sept 3
The Situation: Baby Jake's date again :0)
The Why: Granger Takes a Bride

Must say this is my first time being on the groom's side of the preparation, especially when you love the bride equally as much. Granted it was Ris as the groom's attendant, but where Jakey goes, LT will travel.

Tell me you don't love him.

Ris and LT. She has one with me on the party bus drinking beer, but I refuse to post that since I was far too sober to be drinking beer willingly at that point :0)

Mr. Bear stow-a-way.

'I say a little prayer for yooouuu....'

'Aah, I'm getting married!'

Ris escorting her bridesmaid buddy.

Get down, get down. This bridal party travels in style. None of those stuffy limos for this crew.

Why yes that is a baby on party bus. And yes, he is the life of said party.

Picture. Picture. Picture. I love that we all have a different angled version of this.

Typical J face.

Quick! The dance floor's open and I hear music! Go!

Matron of honor, aka sister of the bride, was a Godsend and definitely on her game.

Hello, reception FLIP-FLOPS. Bonus.

How do I love thee, and your faces in this pic, let me count the ways.

Rhodica macking on my date.

•••••
Match #: 6
Locale: ATL Midtown
Digits: Oct 8
The Storyline: Inessa finds the very BEST man
Note: My Russian is VERY rusty, Candy Stations are en vogue, and PACKERS fans are everywhere [shout out Best family]

The date says Oct 8, but some may remember it as when ATL Pride took over midtown. Ugh, the crowd was a b*tch to navigate even by foot. Thankfully caught up with another friend that weekend and still watched the game live [as did the groom's family, natch].

Doubling down on the parental escort.

Sisterly officiant. Sweet touch.

Mr. & Dr. Best••••

••••••
And as an after dinner kicker, my penchant for random signage has struck again. Enjoy.

I can only assume this Prius was extremely liberal from its bumper stickers. Pink sticker stopped me in my tracks when heading into a store. It reminded me of a snide come back in response to a 'Save the Babies!' comment you might have heard in a verbal spat between high schoolers, promptly followed by someone in the crowd yelling- 'Ooh, buuuurrrnnnn!' [No, just me? Totally product of the 80s and 90s]. BTW, I totally want that black sticker.

Acceptable?!?!? That's all you're going to give me? Acceptable as compared to what? And what am I accepting at this level?

Hello to you to Mr. RideOn Bus.

Always. There might be more fun signs about.

•••Here We Go Again•

2011-10-22T01:23:00.000-04:00

Any person who resides in/near a touristy city or foreign exotic locale has had that very thought [see blog title above] pass through their mind. The thought that for the umpteenth time this year, month, week, or day, you get to go experience 'the sights', for whichever new batch of visitors, be it family or friends, happen to be in town. I have definitely been amongst that batch of visitors as often [or more] as I have been the visitee. This time however, I got to rehash my well honed speed-sightseeing skills [I had just perfected them in Italy recently] when I took my mother and one of her friends on a whirlwind tour of our nations worst traffic cluster. Oh, wait that was supposed to read-- our nation's capital. My bad.

Mi madre y yo.

I never knew where I got my I just want to see everything mentality about travel until I was trying earnestly to nail down what my mom wanted to include in her itinerary. Aside from the new MLK memorial, that she, her friend, and it seems every able bodied black person stateside were dying to see, she just wanted to see it ALL. Seriously? All of it? Crap. I advised that her and her friend's essential carry-on item to be a good pair of walking shoes and a good attitude, because I was gonna make their poor little feet pay for their owners' vague umbrella-broad tourist desires. Turns out, my mother is a good sport, because 8 monuments, 1 capitol, 1 supreme court, 2 museums, and 1 DC landmark later, she was all for the hike back to my car. And gall-darn-it what just took us 4 hours to do going out, we were going to cover in 30 minutes back if she wanted to make it to church on time. Her friend on the other hand....that was another story. I should have had an idea after the numerous small convos had with my mom during the planning of the trip:

Convo #1 [these may be some dramatization, and some reality, the lines blur]--

Mom: S doesn't like dogs. But she can handle them if they don't jump on her, or lick her.

Me: Umm, did you tell her about Chiquita? Her middle names are are jumping-on-people and licking them. Because if that's the case, she's better off staying in a hotel than here.

Mom: Well she says that if you just keep Chiquita off of her, it should be fine.

Me: Excuse me?!?!? Chiquita lives here, she doesn't. She may have to just get used to my 4lb menace of love and kisses.

Convo #2:

Me [via email]: Mom here is your flight itinerary. I intentionally paid more to fly you into DCA on Friday night so I could just metro there and I don't have to drive to Dulles or BWI. Tell your friends [there were 2 planning to come at that time], to either get flights around yours into DCA or they will likely have to get a super-shuttle to my apt from the other airports, because traffic sucks then.

Mom [email reply]: Oh *** isn't coming, but S wanted to wait and found a cheap ticket, but she gets in the following morning [Saturday, natch] at 0700 and leaves Monday at 1800 both via Dulles. Do you mind picking her up and taking her to the airport?

Me: [After a serious eye roll, grumble or possibly taking someone's name in vain]...Sure. I'll drive the 45 minutes to Dulles at crack-dawn on Saturday, and then on Monday try to leave work ridiculously early so I can grab her and battle with DC after-work traffic to get her to airport on time.

Convo #3:

Me [on Friday night]: Hope S is on her game as soon as we pick her up. Our schedule is tight with all we are going to do.

Mom: Oh she should be, but there are times she is slow at getting ready to go.

Me: We'll, see about that. --> [2 hours after intended departure into DC on Saturday]. Seriously?!!? What the HELL having you been doing?

Okay you get the point. The situation in convo 3 happened over and over again trying to get from one place to the next: Oh, I want to rest. [Wait Mom, where is so-and-so?] Can't we just take a taxi? [Um, no there are museums you wanted to see along the sides of the mall]. I didn't bring walking shoes. I didn't bring a jacket. We have to walk to dinner? [Yes, this 5 minute walk from my apartment to the restaurant is going to be the final straw on the camel's back that breaks you]. And the best on Sunday...we are leaving at 10:15 for brunch, so we can eat and I can still get to my frisbee game on time. Despite 3 different times being awoken by myself or my mother over the hour before departure, at 10 minutes to leaving someone is just emerging from my guest room. I could have throttled her. You know me and patience. A virtue I definitely do not possess. I did my best to suppress the immense frustration and anger I wanted to project onto her [it was my mother's birthday after all], and for the most part I controlled verbal outbursts, but I have no idea how many eye rolls or cut eyes may have escaped.

•••

••Thomas Jefferson Memorial••

•S and Mom•

•Eleanor•

•••FDR Memorial•••

[By far my favorite memorial ever]

From just an etched rememberance at Lincoln's feet to...

•Martin Luther King, Jr Memorial: The Man, The Myth, The Legend•

[Okay the subtext was mine, but kind of fits, no?]

•Ben's•

[One DC landmark to go, please]

In the end, my mom had a good time and good trip which was all that mattered. And I got to see a couple memorials I hadn't yet, leaving me still a perpetual tourist as well as tour guide.

••LT••

•Tick•Tock••Wound Up Like a Clock•

2011-10-02T01:08:00.001-04:00

Disclaimer: Aim is for some musings. Apologies in advance if this degenerates into a rant. Because I'm sure it will.

I have long thought that should I ever be subjected to 'therapy' many-a-session would start with the words... 'So, I went to Target today...' It's anybody's guess how the line goes on from there as I've had some serious adventures in Target. But today this blog post is not about Target, or what's happened there, or did not happened there, it's gonna try to be introspective, we'll see if I can steer the ship that way. Lucky for me, Uncle Sam has not yet deemed it necessary for me to spill my innermost twisted thoughts or random mental combinations to another living human being. Unlucky for you, I blog.

Right now I feel as though my academic/professional life is a physics theorem. I am sure there is some sort of equation I knew in my smarter days about "the sum total force of something being greater than the individual dividend forces that combine to create it, blah blah, yada yada". Whatever, let's get to the blowing stuff up part, Mr. Ecklund... But seriously that is what I feel like. Like a shot glass positioned below a beer funnel expected to take whatever comes my way. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE what I do for my patients, but I hate being the ONLY low woman on the pole of totem. After 8 straight weeks on service, this last 10 day stretch has seemed longer than the rest put together. Since day 1 of fellowship up to now, day 873, the number of my co-fellows has decreased steadily from 5 others to 0. You read that right, zip, zilch, cero, nil. You can imagine the trickle down patient/work-load I graciously inherited. But add onto that, 4 different kids who [Won't. Stop. Seizing.] all at the same time plus 4 different attendings giving me 4 different perspectives on how to best manage them, new staff coming to me for all the answers on the how-to because 'I am the most direct', me being the relay point for all the things our absentee nurse should be handling, and perpetually always giving guidance on how things work to the man who is technically "in charge of me" because his predecessors won't, all coming to head in a 10 day time span. Yea. It's like I am that child who is having to grow up too fast because I am so busy taking care of my dysfunctional family. Do I think that some of my professional innocence and education is suffering? Without a doubt. Who wants to come home after the 4th day of leaving work at 2100hrs, having dealt all day with others' unfinished whatever, and crack open a book. Not me. And I know I speaking to the old-school-medicine choir, but just like you then, I want to walk my dog, maybe play with her for 30 minutes before I then drag my haunches to bed, praying that on the 15th straight day of home call, the pager doesn't go off yet again before I get up at 0500. I blame a lot it on being a Type A, perfectionist hybrid. It's an incurable disease. One person said to me this week, "I ask'd you instead of them because I know it will get done right". Darn you for the compliment. I'm sure some others could handle all this smorgasbord with their pinky finger, ahem Jax, but I don't handle overwhelming stress well. Imagine an unopened bottle of [whatever carbonated beverage you choose]. You are ecstatic to open it, unaware that en-route to your grubby little paws, it's been all shook up. Oopsie. Oh, am I bubbling over onto you, you the poor sap who happened to be the next to cross my path? My bad. Consider this blog post a seltzer.

All in all, what this little jaunt through temporary insanity has taught me, besides the fact that I need a Xanax like whoa, is that I am in desperate need of a mentor. Maybe not someone to whom I spill all my emotions out to [because really, who could handle all that, even my friends seem shell-shocked with only partial clips I divulge, full clips might make them worry], but at least someone I can go to who I feel as though they are in my corner, rooting me on, putting the stool out between rounds, making me accountable to how I self-educate myself, and taking the pulse of where I am versus where I should be, so at the end of the day I get to pimp the Rocky pose after he gets up those darn steps.

So now I am "Desperately Seeking Susan" in the theoretical sense...

And you may be shocked that I would vent in a such public forum-- "That's how people get fired! From bagging on their boss/job/corporation/spouse on FB!" But those who know me, know well enough that anything I've said here, I have NO problem quoting verbatim in person and possibly already have.

I leave you with one of the three fortune cookie fortunes I have kept over the years:

"Your path is arduous, but will be amply rewarding."

Someone remind me of that next time.

•LT•

••Hodgepodge••

2011-08-12T01:00:00.002-04:00

•Thought #1•

I think that I must be a walking conundrum. Or an oxymoron. Or just straight up ironical. Whatever it is, it's never ceases to amaze me what my pocket sized brain will think of next. One random thought in particular got to me tonight, something I call a little Shameful Pride. For S's & G's, let us assume that the majority of people who earn their medical degree are proud of their accomplishments and profession, have family members proud to say they have a doctor in the family (that is unless you come from a family of lawyers, which in the case-- Congrats, You've been disowned!), make little children gape and awe in amazement at career day, and yada-yada-yada... I would like to think of myself as one of these people, med school sucked, residency was tasking and I just want to be done with fellowship so I can go out and save little people, but I am totally proud of myself for sticking with an 8 year old's dream. I like being able to say that I'm a doctor (although, I'll be darned if I will be the first to acknowledge it on an airplane, I'm waiting for that dude in first class who's an attending at the House of God and studied at the BMS to step up, drunk or not- just being honest), I worked hard for it gosh darn it. But that's just the right hand... what about my ability to say I am in the Armed Forces? Coming from a family steeped, or better yet entrenched, in enlisted hard hitting military service, I can't help but swell with pride when I think I serve in the World's best military. But here's the kicker, I catch myself using the one to down play the other ALL THE FREAKING TIME. What gives?

A little old lady at the grocery store or a vet hanging with me in the elevator at work, all want to pause and thank me for my service, I graciously accept, but inevitably always follow it up with- 'But I'm just a doctor.' WTF?!?! Since when did I start to think that was a bad thing... Oh that was probably when arrived at the the Reed, looked around and saw our 19, 20, 23 year old sacrificial lambs wheeling around the halls with their little wives and young kids trailing behind them, or while fastening on their prosthetic leg(s) in physical therapy. These young guys -and gals, natch- make me feel like I have never really done anything significant with my life. It's like I have survivor's guilt or something. So in end the while trying to downgrade the accomplishments these bystanders are imagining in their head, so they hopefully recognize real sacrifice, I end up in a quandary: Proud of both my 'careers', but putting down one because it seems to tarnish my other shiny badge of honor. Crazy.

•Thought #58•

I am calling the month of August- 'The Pause'. There are a multitude of reasons I coined that moniker, not least of which is that it contains the first four weeks in a row (in a long time) where: I was able to sleep in my own bed every night, I didn't have to resort to doing any airplane leg exercises, I was able to forgo the pack to unpack to repack again cycle, and I got to play lots and lots of Ultimate without obligation tearing at me. Sure I've had to come in to work on call a couple times, and I sucked up a weekend with a day-trip out to Annapolis followed by a day of leisure at Lake Anna the following day, but mostly this month has belonged to me. And it is fabulous. Unfortch on the down side of The Pause is the Congress approved 4-letter word: BRAC. Boo, hiss, grrr. If you've read this blog, you already know I loathe change, especially MAJOR changes. And this is a major change amidst chaos (my brain hamster is losing its mind). I feel like a blind ground mole digging tunnels, popping up here and there, hoping I have landed in the right place. Oh did I mention my cruise ship directors are probably the 3 blind mice? I am watching people who are essentially as much of an institution as the Death Star is, trying to pack 30+ years of medicine and Army into little blue bins and grey carts. Ha. Just imagine the pain of the 'sort and toss ritual' before a house move-- then multiply it by an entire hospital, that is dividing into 2 parts, and feel the pain the higher ups are feeling. Oh yea, and have the Washington Post camped out at your doorstep waiting for you to make the smallest mistake, I don't recall WH or BAMC having this issue during their BRAC. This crazy clean-up/pack has got me looking around my apartment and thinking I seriously need to down size, God-forbid I double or triple the amount of junk I possess now over my years, sheesh. But back to The Pause. The BRAC for all intensive purposes, has cock-blocked most outpatient care during the 8-10 days surrounding each departments move, which makes for alot of down time. But acute appoints are bound to occur. So although, the clinic is closed, the hallway is a fire hazard, and our admin staff are AWOL...we are squeezing people in, here and there. Seeing patients in the john, broom closets, the cafeteria...okay I kid, just in exam rooms. So needless to say when August comes to an end, so will an era...the Reed will be closed, and I will be back to my insane travel schedule/social calendar.

•••
The Academy

Smells like teen spirit. Or maybe it was fish.

So. Many. Birds.

Oh, yeah I was there too.

Summer formation. Ugh. It was not a cool day.

These boats have the best names. Kind of miffed I couldn't get the 'Audacious' into the pic.

Midshipmen for sale? I will take one in each size, gracias.

•••
Downtown Annapolis

Wait what?! The Roots?! Where? I don't see Questlove.
But isn't that Alex Haley? Yes. Oh, you mean those ROOTS.

•••
Laka Anna, VA

Jen and her midgets. That boy would not cease and desist, such a motor mouth.
Yes, today I will be the kettle, thanks.

Co-Captains Steve and Kory of the SS Tea-bag (no I did not name the boat).

•••

•Thought #7.1•

I am seriously behind the times. I better get a rush on it if I don't want all my friends to be geriatric at my future wedding, which they WILL ALL COME TO (which is the best kind of payback, or love-back) :0) Anyhoo, I gots Kimchi's bubala fete at the end of month, J&S up next in September- Omaha bound!- then Ms Fishman in Oct, representing the ATL.

Stick a fork in it. I'm done.

•LT•

••• J+J •••

2011-07-26T01:22:00.000-04:00

jarid + joni

this is one of those moments when everything is right with the world. when someone who deserves so much love, light, and laughter unites with the one person who embodies all that and much more. words cannot describe the joy felt amongst those blessed to witness these two come together.
i hope you can share in a sliver of their happiness as seen through the lens.

•••••

•••••

•blessing•

•••••

long lost friends

••••••

This day I married my best friend...

Temporary

2011-07-20T07:54:00.000-04:00

Hello, Goodbye • Ciao, Addio • Καλωσόρισες, Αντίο

2011-07-16T20:20:00.002-04:00

Meet Phil.

No Phil isn't short for Philosopher, Philanthrope, or even Philanderer (although he does get around); it's really short for Philbrook. Yes, as in the museum in Tulsa, thank you very much. And yes, they are totally biting on the Amelie-Traveling-Gnome-bit by sending him around the world with strangers, but let's get back to the subject of his name. Even though at one point during the trip I did accidentally rename him Philmore, I actually want Phil to be short for Phil-loader. Because seriously, think about it, sneaky little Phil did manage to stow-a-way in T's bag, for a free trip to Italy and Greece, with a few free glamour shots thrown in there. He's lucky he doesn't eat anything, otherwise we might had to start making him pony up some Euros, just sayin'. So although on this journey we weren't blessed with any elephants, not a one, we do have the enduring beloved childhood games of 'Where's Phil?" or "Where in the World is Phil the Phil-loader?" (Please tell me you got these references, otherwise I am lost on you.)

Our trip began in the classic- "Why Can't ANYTHING Go Smoothly" way, as only our trips should. Thankfully T's planes weren't delayed innumerable hours as they were last year, but this time she was arriving so late, that oh gee, the last Yellow line metro train heading north will be leaving about 5 minutes after she is able to collect her bag, and most of the other stations will be closing within 30 minutes. And no I'm not down there to meet her as a good friend should, I am stuck in SS, waiting on the Red line trains (as we all do) for >1hr because they are single tracking on a WEEKNIGHT for some forsaken reason. Oh, and goody, I can't just go drive down there and get her. No, that would be too easy, let us make this a true comedy of fools, and have the heroine's trusty stead (ha, it's a Ford Focus), blow a gasket, or literally snap off its oil dip stick tube at it's most proximal insertion to the engine, thus causing pressure destabilization in said engine and all the new oil, from the oil change 3 days earlier, to spill all over Maryland (WTF??!?). So our two protagonists, banter back and forth about the best solution, and essentially devise- run to that last train, we will meet at the stop were you need to change trains anyway. Suffice it to say, fate couldn't hold us down, rendezvous was completed (where I meet Phil for the first time) and we make it back to SS only 2 hours after our adventure attempted to commence. To add to the crazy, I was not packed for our 10 day trip in the least, the disadvantage of living in a different city for the entire month leading right up until the point of T's plane landing. So I was able to embrace the 'stay up all night to reset our clocks for Europe' ploy (phooey, I was still tired), while T succumbed to slumber as only I wished I could. The trip to the airport later that day was nearly uneventful, just a few snafus, to include scrambling to get Cheeks to daycare sans car (thanks Rebecca, you were a God-send!), T's being half dressed when our van driver rolls up, and the dude who seriously forgot an entire bag (--of golf clubs) and wanted the driver to turn around, in rush hour traffic, on a Friday, heading out of DC, before the long 4th of July weekend. As if.

Day 1, 2 • British Air
The USO didn't let us down again. Samoas for me, Tagalogs for T, and more to snack on for later. Many props to BA for literally blowing Virgin Atlantic out of the water from flight attendant courtesy, to working in-flight entertainment, to the advantage of twin seats (no middle seats b*tches!). Also, hooking a entire plane up with a travel toothbrush and toothpaste after the long flight was clutch. Although we landed in London, no memories were able to be relived, some thankfully (have you ever stood in their non-EU member customs line, geez).

Day 2 • Milano
There was no time for sleep. This we knew, so we prepared for the pain. We had heard many naysayers in the lead up to the trip- "What 5 Italian cities in 6 days? Can't be done!" But thankfully, one naysayer (whom T met whilst getting her toes done, natch) actually was helpful (I can only imagine the 'poor dears' look she likely had in her eyes when she realized we were utterly unprepared for this trip aside from arranging travel and lodging).
RICK STEVES to the rescue!

With his guidance (here and everywhere else in Italy) we managed to make it to the Duomo in Milan unscathed, and essentially discovered there wasn't much else to Milan (except being the cheapest Italian major city you can fly into ;0), as we were not going to make the Last Supper without reservations. We did manage to make it to a Mozzarella bar however (I was served the biggest single ball of cheese I'd ever seen for expected human consumption). Reportedly mozzarella is the new sushi. Me thinkest not.

Ride 'em train cowboy.

Phil, such an imitator. Poor Milan ducky being dominated so.

Duomo

Do I speak the language? No, but I've got the newest version of Italian with me. Hungarian.

My favorite picture of the lot.

Phil's Bright Shiny Idea

Day 3 • Venezia
A city set afloat by its own history. I hope no one ever said that you can't get lost on an island, 'cause if they did they hadn't met us. So in America you know how as you go down a street, usually the even numbers are one side and the odds on the other, and the bldg numbers playing a little ascending badminton back and forth until the end of the street? Well such is not the way in Venice, they embrace the reverse U-turn counting method. So as you are looking to your left, and are seeing ascending numbers on the street that you want to be on, you continue to walk in that direction, especially since the infallible google maps app is guiding you to end of that block and over a small canal. Even as you pause to take pictures of the long look of this idyllic Venetian street, you don't realize the future fate that awaits. So you trundle on dragging a rolling suitcase over cobblestone-like streets, bouncing on gravel, up some stairs, through courtyards, across small bridges, and down alleys for about 20 minutes. Then alas, self pity, the 'I Don't F-ing Care Anymore-s', and the I-will-murder-someone-soon-if-I-have-to-keep-doing-this-alone urge, overtake you and you are brought to the realization (after some guidance by a inn keeper) that at the VERY BEGINNING of your original street when you were looking at the building labelled 1, the address of 99 you were seeking was directly behind you, across the street, because when the numbers ended on the left they made an immediate about-face and promptly began climbing up on the right. Grr. And oh yeah, if you haven't heard there are no elevators in Venice (you need basements for those, the non-floating kind). Take my advice, do your back a favor, don't bring a rolling suitcase to Europe and pack light enough that you can trudge it up 4 flights under your own power.

View across Grand Canal from train station.

Said idyllic Venetian street.

Well we finally, wrung out our clothes, threw on our most uncomfortable flat sandals and set out to conquer Venice. Lemme just say, gorgeous. I had the best time wandering those streets. Its beauty is amplified at night when the majority of the tourists staying on the mainland leave making everything less crowded (the Venice we see in the movies is an island, don't ya know). We managed to hit all the must dos and must sees, as well as ride in a Gondola, which T was allowed to guide (or oar or row or drive), for the bargain price of only one inappropriate, unexpected partial feelsy. We followed advice and got lost in Venice (literally, attempting to go a new way to avoid my new friend Pedro), which was fun for a bit, finding pop up areas of youth and excitement, but quickly soured as the time to get home to the hotel doubled, then tripled in the Bermuda triangle of Venetian alleys. I think even GPS might have been stumped at some point there. Thank goodness for people willing to point us in the general direction of travel and to the dark hooded figure for not murdering us on that one canal bridge. Travel shenanigans furthered ensue when we weren't able to book a direct train out to Florence the next day before 1pm, so with a hop skip and a jump later, we made 3 different connections and pushed onto our destination.

Grand Canal

Loved the water's reflection on the bridge's underside. Poor translation from camera though.

Italian music serenade.

Um, awesome.

Take 2. Phil needed to get in on the action.

One bright spot.

Roman numeral 24 hour clock.

Basilica di San Marco

Dark photography sans flash.

You're not a real church if you don't have a bldg fund :0)

Piazza di San Marco

Poser.

Giant monkey!

Ah, I love you too Venice.

Ponte Vecchio.

Gondola in action.

Night river art.

Day 4 • Pisa
This day should have been so much more than just Pisa in the rain, and too many train connections to count, but the poor pre-planning bug got us again. All the Tuscan cooking classes were booked, so we did Pisa and then pooped out.

Can you spot him?

Day 5 • Firenze + Chianti
"Reservations? No. Oh, well then you need to go wait in that line there. Which? You see the one that starts here and ends beyond your view of the horizon? Yes that one." That should be the tag line for the Florentine museums. The wait time for these places was absurd. We spit up the extra Euro and snag Uffizi reservation spots for 12:30 thinking almost 3 hours is enough time to see one statue, and then gamely headed over the l'Accademia to see David in all his nekkid glory. Thought we were getting a great 'skip the line deal' by booking a walking tour that promised "No wait in line", but really got a raw deal. Who knows how many cruise ship groups of 40+ (the bane of any individual tourists existence) were ahead of us, all I know is our 11am entry time was suddenly creeping up on 12:45 and we were no where near being inside. But glory, glory hallelujah we finally get in. As about 3 of our group of 15 make it through, the rest suddenly get stopped. No, no turn around these are the wrong tickets- they say Uffizi (dammit all to hell, didn't I just mention that these tickets looked EXACTLY like our Uffizi tickets). Well bollocks, the whole lot of us had the wrong entry tickets, and the powers that be were unyielding to our tour arrangers- get the right tickets or no admit, suckas. Tickets finally change hands, T and I swoop in to take a few illegal fotos of David and break apart from our group while literally running back to Uffizi. We have no problem getting in after our time slot, but it is now around 1:30 or later, and did I mention we have a 6 hour wine tour starting at 2:30 which we need to be back at our hotel for. These Italians are sneaky, they get you in, but don't want to let you go that easily. After rush seeing the paintings we wanted, it takes us about 15 minutes just to get OUT of the museum, because there is no direct 'go back down the stairs you just came up' strategy, you must snake the halls and dodge the people. Needless to say we made it back by 2:25 and onto our wine tour, the second best thing we did all trip, IMHO. Along with 6 other strangers, including our new wine tasting buddy Jeff (he and I were totally friends in another Italian life, I swear), we partook in 2 wine tastings, chased by fantastic balsamic and EVOO tastings, with a variety of cheese kickers. Oh, one mustn't forget the honey, honey. The Tuscan hill country is magnificent. A must do. I could definitely have done more Tuscany and Florence.

Lift with your legs.

David. This picture's existence makes it straight contraband.

Chianti

There be Balsamic in dem thar barrels.

Yea, let's wake up to this everyday.

Jeff and T

IDK. Romans and their genitalia fetish.

Day 6 • Roma + Vatican City
The hot bed of the modern era. Roman ingenuity amazes me. When I say we did Rome in a day, I'm being gracious. We actually did essential Rome + Vatican City in about 8 hours :0) I'd like to say maybe if we'd left the hotel before 12 noon more would have been accomplished, but ya know crazy only provides so much fuel, you eventually need to recharge, so I imagine there would have been a bit of drag-ass-ness occurring if we wouldn't have rested just a bit. Purists tourists may be mad at us, no we did not go inside the Colosseum, but we knew time was an optimum. We took exterior shots galore and hustled (or shuffled depends on how you hear the music in your head) over to the Vatican. Advance bookings? Why yes thank you right this way. I was seriously excited for Sistine Chapel and the infamous ceiling, but after being shuffled like a lemming in a cavalcade for about 1 hour, waiting for the floor to drop from beneath my feet suddenly because there was no end in sight, just to get there, I was left with a 'meh', and a guard barking "Quiet! No pictures!", while they stuffed more and more of us into the small space. The walls of the Musei Vaticani along the way were adorned with so many art frescos and beautiful paintings of the era and time, the ceiling just didn't pop or stand out for me. Don't get me wrong, I applaud the young painter for the hours spent on his back, but did any of the other ceiling artists contribute less so to theirs? Anyhoo, onward and outward. St. Peter's square was an enormous sight. I can only imagine the scene when it is packed with Catolicos at the selection of a new pope, pure chaos. And shoot me, but I can't help but pollute my image of the Vatican, Capella Sistina, and St. Pete's with visions of Ewan McGregor and and Tom Hanks scurring about. After leaving the principality, we hit a few other classic Roman sights, but I was sad to have missed the Spanish steps (it was a compromise to get to the Pantheon, which was not near a metro stop, as well as to also hit the Trevi fountain). Next time.

Coloseo

Arch of Constantinople

Palatine Hill

Roman Forum

•••

The principality is closed, please come again.

Look at me, ma!

Now, you're just showboating.

Shaky, stealth phone picture. I tip my hat to you, Sistine Guards.

He thinks he's above it all.

St. Peter's Square.

Majestic.

No dance. Not even a little bit.

Subway art.

Fontana di Trevi

Sudden discovery of my phone's fun camera functions, as my real camera dies :0(

Pantheon

Coke Light.

Merely a supplement to T's 4 staple food groups- Gelato, Vino, Cappuccino, and Croissant.

San Pietro in Vincoli (St. Peter in Chains)

Day 7 • Aegean Air + Olympic Air
Putting Italy in our rearview, we hoped a plane and jetted over to Greece, after a quick dalliance with our new airport friend, Ricardo. If you ever wanted to know the way to T's heart, let me tell you- a little candy treat before take-off. Even if the plane is delayed almost an hour. Well played Aegean and Olympic, well played. From the airport, we were picked up by our hotelier, such a nice little Καλώς ήρθατε στην Ελλάδα (Welcome to Greece). Don't know why, but when reading reviews about our hotel and seeing all the comments from everyone raving about G, our hotelier, the great hospitality, and the outstanding quality of the place, I expected a middle aged or older Greek gentleman who was the kind to grab your face and kiss both your cheeks as if he hadn't seen you since the last family reunion. Imagine my surprise when our ride was indeed the said G, but he was no adorable middle aged man, but a strapping young fella. Don't get me wrong youth is nothing but a number when it comes to him. What were you doing at 24? Had you been running your own hotel for 7 years? No? That's what I thought. He makes me look like a massive underachiever. Especially when you realized he's named his hotel for his mother, damn you treacherous single tear.

The Aegean. In-flight Enticement

Our sweet Santorini abode.

Days 7, 8, 9 • Santorini
The rumors are true. You could die here and feel as though you have already been to heaven. We did our best to maximize on doing a whole bunch of nothing. Extensive walking was just NOT in the cards, especially on the precarious streets in stiletto wedges, heading up hill and not accounting for the headwind, so an ATV was letted. Yep, we were those tourists. Except we were the ones breaking all speed safety laws flying down the coast without abandon to Perissa and Ia. My utmost favorite single moment of this entire trip was Perissa. Black pebble beach, with the aqua Aegean sea washing ashore, lounge chair chaises under straw umbrellas, with 2 delectable Americanos at our beck and call (well hello Jaime and Michael- are you noticing a trend here?). We had a couple raucous nights dancing in Fira until 5am with G and his cousins, meeting new people (hello Laura!), and letting off some of our Italian steam. The sunset at Ia was exactly what you've come to expect. And no I didn't ride a donkey, they smell, and I felt so bad for their existence. We extended our stay here by a day, because there was really no point in Athens for a day amongst the ridiculousness happening there politically. Good call T, good call. So an overnight sleeper before our flight was all the Athens we experienced.

Mode d'transportation du jour.

Road to Perissa.

Rear view.

Yes, please.

Bliss. Pure and simple.

Black sandy pebbles.

Sun done gone to my head.

Now this is vacation.

•••

Ia from Ammoudi Bay

Donkeys

Sunset

Ammoudi Bay

•••

Fira

Koo Club. Fira Nightlife.

Tropical. Would you expect any less of me?

Day 10 • Turkish Air
You think American security is tight? Please. Istanbul is fierce. After 9 days of international travel with nary a passport stamp, I had my passport and boarding pass checked not once, not twice, but EIGHT times in the Istanbul airport alone. WTF? At least they made it up to me, with the largest selections of movies I've seen on any of my international travels thus far. T on the other hand was cursed with a non-functional in-flight entertainment system, but swung the cargo seat directly in front of me with lots of leg room. Unfortunately though, it was not the quick 7 hour flight we had come to expect from London. More like an almost 13 hour trip after our 2 hour flight from Greece. To say we were dog tired and worn is an understatement. T was so tired she passed out on top of the bed with her phone still in her hand (I so should have taken a picture).

All and all a very memorable trip at a pace a little more hectic than I would have liked, more often than not. And although our official anthem of the trip was THIS, in my head it was unofficially THIS for quite a bit, :0)

••LT••

Θα επιστρέψω (I will come back)

By the end of this blog, and my post of only a fraction of the obscene amount of fotos I took, I will be able to see how my social experiment worked out. What experiment? Oh, the one where I wait to see how many friends (shoot, I even included my brother and father in this) contact me independently on my birthday (ahem, today) without out the aid of FB telling them to. The count so far 2 friends + my mom + my dad + my old insurance agent. I sure hope the pace picks up.

•Game, Set, Match Made in the ATL•••

2011-07-16T14:03:00.000-04:00

Weeping willows.

Friends and family gathered.

DJ getting down to his own grooves.

BBQ-- that will slap it's own mother.

Resilient baby in a sling.

Gaytra (or was it Gaitra?).

Biking around the coastal.

Hermit crabs.

Sunset.

Seaside.

Stunning bride.

Enamored groom.

Tassels.

Happiness.

Forever.

•

May 2011.

Jekyll Island, GA.

••Hawai'i 2-0••

2011-05-13T23:01:00.001-04:00

Yes, I see you scratching your head. 2-0? Isn't it supposed to be 5-0? Well, no. I haven't been to Hawai'i 5 times now have I? Plus it's a blog, and in the blogosphere I have free license to make stupid jokes and puns til my little pinky explodes from typing. Now let's get underway shall we...

So as the country was losing their proverbial "poo" over a looming government shut down affecting the ability of National Parks to remain open, the trash pick up in DC, mailed-in tax refunds (seriously, who still mails in tax returns?), and oh yeah members of the Armed Forces not getting paid, I was personally having a conflict of interest. Should I be more worried that I won't possibly be getting paid (being a member of said Armed Forces) or that this could possibly affect my (government funded) trip to Hawai'i? Oh, yea I am that fickle in moments of desperation. Thank goodness, the idiot politicians (whom we repeatedly elect- and not blindly might I add) got some of their crap together and pretended to hold hands long enough to avert a full fledged revolt of the ENTIRE population of DC, so that their man-servants could still pick them up in their town-cars, shine their shoes, and hold their hands while they use the potty. As for me, it made me breathe a little easier going to Hawaii on the man's dime, knowing that my more worthy contemporaries (read: those actually making sacrifices in the sand) would still be able to keep their families fed.

The trip itself was not just all fun and fun. It was fun and educational (how often are those 2 paired, eh?). The only reason Uncle Sam agreed to send me, is that he agreed I needed it. Of the 8 days there, I was up attending classes at no later than 8am, with a 5:30am workout usually prior, about 5 of them (yay for the 11am class on Mon, with a bit of nothing snuck in there on Tues and Weds). Here I was getting my neurology on, in America's own little piece of paradise (if you discount the airport). But let me tell you, Oahu (okay just mostly Waikiki proper) has nothing on Maui. Felt like I was back in LA or ATL during rush hour, the homeless population is heartbreaking, and it had it's dirty spots (like any other city), but definitely had its take-your-breath-away scenes and moments. Sea turtles on the North Shore, the sands of Sunset Beach, Paddle Boarding in Maunalua Bay, the view from the tippity-top of Diamond Head, the gravity of Pearl Harbor, Mai-Tais with old friends, the Moana Surfrider, spa day, frolicking whales off Turtle Bay, and food, oh the food.

It definitely helps a trip along to go with people you like; and I'd like to think me and the other house-staff there had a darn good time. The pictures I took are a barrage of random (just like me), because you can only take so many pictures of water :0)

••LT••

Bonus Question: How do YOU figure out tell what side the gas tank is on when driving an unfamiliar car? Answer at the VERY bottom. If craning your neck around while looking in your side view mirrors was your answer, let me show you a different way (that is usually available).

Home Sweet Hotel.

Guess what? That is NOT a real coconut.

Moana Surfrider. THIS is the Barbie dream house I wanted as a kid.

Work for the week.

Diamond Head

Such an ugly sight.

I see pain in my immediate future.

Only the beginnning...

Now just imagine, we went UP these first.

Good thing they told me this because I was getting ready to roll down this b*tch.

Yea, this used to be a volcano.

A Day That Will Live In Infamy...

Nostril shot. Forgot to zoom out, the follow-up was money though.

USS Missouri in port/dock/slip/parked...whatever

Picture of a picture. The gravity of it all...

North Shore

Turtle Head!

My little beach buddy.

Sunset Beach. Or Sunrise, either way great.

All the schrimp you can eat and then some.

Turtle Bay Resort

Stand Up Paddle Boarding

Let the games begin! And may the odds be EVER in your favor.

Look Ma, I'm in Open Water. Egads.

No whammies, no whammies.

Fun little surfer dude. Our other instructor/photographer was gorgeous, trucker hats do him no justice.

*****************
BTW, here's your answer:
Glance at your gas gauge, quite possibly next to the gas icon there is a small arrow. Which way is it pointing? That's where your gas tank is :0) Your welcome.

••The Hair Wars••••

2011-03-18T20:20:00.001-04:00

Ah the plight of the AAF...Relax It, Braid It, Weave It, Wig It, or Rock It? The majority of my life it was definitely Relax It; that decision essentially came down to my mother's vow to best the proverbial bird's nest on my head and my dead set refusal to sit still for the hot comb anymore. [Lemme just say many layers of ear lobe skin were saved with that decision]

And as time went on, I'd like to say I embraced my sisterhood and decided to rock my natural, but alas I was first forced to the left on this forked path solely because I was a broke med-student, I had fried my hair to ends of the earth, and it finally stood up and said- "That's all I can stands, 'cuz I can't stands n'more".

So I tried the Rock It method, but soon realized that my up coming job may not allow the Rock It. I then opted for the old fall back, Braid It. Just to clarify, Braid It and I, are not friends, but we aren't enemies either. There'a a little give and take between us. Braid It takes from me scalp pain, 8-12 hours of my life [and my tush's life] in one sitting, and even my own hair when I dare to detangle Braid It from me. But I take 2-3 glorious months of not doing crap to my hair everyday. Unfortunately, my innate need for simplicity still got the best of Braid It back then, as I retreated to Relax It after a detangling debacle. Well that was 4 years ago and I can only imagine what my bird's nest would have been now.

As you may, or may not, have read before [almost a year ago today], I ventured into the journey of Braid It again, followed by invoking the holy BIG CHOP last fall, almost a year to the date of no Relax It.

Two days ago, I fought a detangle battle with Braid It that I thought was gonna break my will [or my detangling comb]. However, I persevered and am embracing the Rock It [within uniform regs of course] yet again. So here's to our new adventure:

Grow It.

Toodles, LT•••

•Wrote a Blog about it. Like to hear it? Here it goes•••

2011-02-14T22:31:00.003-05:00

Straw Poll.

Who's ever heard of the saying- 'Good things come to those who wait'?

Okay, fine, all of you, BUT who's ever seen it really come to fruition?

I, ladies and gentle folk, am honored to say that I have seen just that very thing happen for my friend Susan.

Here's a little run-down for ya. Don't be jealous...

Stage I: Preparation

When you hear people speak of the mecca called "Vegas", what harkens to mind? Tigers? Missing teeth? Babies in sunglasses? Mike Tyson? For me it screams MOON! Seriously, how had I not been clubbing in Vegas yet? All the times I have been there before, now seem so pedestrian in comparison. Vegas, of course, was our destination bachelorette party for the one, the only, Susan H-to-the-O-B. We stayed in the delectable Aria, ate amazing tapas, shopped for things we didn't need, watch the Bellagio fountains dance (seriously Eve, you gotta push the record button next time :0), had Chinese ketchup, rocked a stretch SUV limo across town, and won some dollar, dollar bills playing slots and blackjack. The highlight of the trip had to be Moon though. After a lackluster stroll through the Playboy Club (who holds a table for an unnamed celebrity for HOURS before they are even supposed to show? Come on Hef, give a little) we finally sashayed our way up to our booth- off the dance floor, natch (bottle service or no service from now on)- at Moon. The DJs were amazing. Ledge dancing was fabulous. The retractable roof was...well, I hear by mandate that all the clubs I EVER go to from now on have a retractable roof option, just sayin'. And the company couldn't have been better. Oh, hold that thought, I would seriously give back the abominable blueberry vodka + cranberry shot and the dude in the booth attached to ours, that ralphed his dinner, and/or whatever he was imbibing, all up in the corner. Thanks dude-rock star. The next day was spent recovering, so not too much to yak about there...

Thad face? Or snarky remark?

Sisters. E to S to D

Twins!

Booth shenanigans.

Scariest bunny EVER. Ceasar's Palace.

Sand horses. Ceasar's.

Stage II: Pre-Show

Hmm, how to cap off a Ladies' weekend in Vegas you ask? I answer: Doing a whole lot of nothing for the next week, unless you count slowing sliding to your death (or dismemberment) down the side of mountain as something :o) Okay, that may be a tad overdramatic (who me, never) but if watching me attempt to ski a green, was as painful for Ris as my calves were the next week, I hereby apologize. Don't get me wrong, it was SUCH a good time, but I fell, a lot (it was less than 10 times over all, and we aren't counting the one time I fell literally just standing there), but if you know me and my sliiiiightly competitive spirit, it kind of crushed me that I wasn't good at skiing straight off. I got the hang of it towards then end (of that 1 run), but by then it was 3 hours into in, powder had turned to ice and hey...we got our wish to do some night skiing. I cried uncle and hobbled to nearest pub. To make it not seem as bad (or me as ungrateful), I am extremely thankful to Ris that I still have life and limb. We missed our intended ski school start, so thought- hey, Ris can teach LT the basics, do a couple up and downs the short beginner run and make it back for the last ski school in 90 minutes. Needless to say when you ride the gondola to the top of the mountain, there aren't a WHOLE lot of beginner/bunny hills. She managed to get me to 'pizza wedge' and taught me to turn and but for my rebellious left foot and the in-bred fear I have of falling to my death (thus me literally crawling down some slopes), I hope I was a good pupil. But don't you fret, we plan to be back same time next year for Ski-Fest with new victims (Mari, Janie) and new ambitions (snowboarding anyone?). Skiing Keystone was the capstone to a week spent in the Springs (Colorado Springs). I got to meet baby Jake for the first time, hang with John, take some pictures of rocks, see Sarah B after I don't know 6 years?!?!, play with Luci and Molly, and catch an Avalanche game with Sue and her future Mr.

No I didn't have a hot tub or time machine, and I didn't get to whisper 'Great White Buffalo' once, but yes, I was rocking a wicked 80's magenta and black ski outfit combo. The pink blur you just saw whiz past you...that was the 5 year old who did the same thing to me earlier, but the hot pink slug you lapped going down a green-run...yeah that one was me.

Sadly, after 9 glorious days of pager freedom, I moseyed on back to DC. Not a whole lot happened during this intermission, except for what I have kindly dubbed- "Wipeout for Cars". It's the game where I peer out my living room window (while I'm warm and comfortable in my own apt) at the cars that attempt to spin and slide their way up-hill and out of the District when the snow is >3 inches deep, it went on for over 4 hours. Hehehe... I am so wrong.

Um, how high up is this again? Taxi!

Yeah, this is where I started.

Garden of the Gods.

Ris and LT.

Sleeping Giant.

Balanced Rock. Love the contrast.

Whoa! Do you see how close we are?!?

Bruin Goalie

Avalanche Goalie

Yeah, you see the only Bruin standing. He's 6'9" w/o skates. Can we say hockey giant?

Sue, E, and Practice :0)

This is how fights happen, between the ref and players.

Are we finished yet? I'm bored. (Not quite lil man)

Stage III: The Big One

Fast-forward to the future (or past now, since it has already happened as I am writing this blog- whatever Michael J Fox knows what I mean) and I am back in Colorado. This time it is yet again warmer than DC, I relocated to Boulder from the Springs and a few of the main players have changed. First baby Jake decided oxygen was the new binky and so went and caught RSV (all the cool kids are doing it) and secondly Susan and her future Mr. got hitched!!! Me and one of my newest Vegas friends, Janie, linked up from the DIA to drive up to Boulder and hunker down together at the Marriot and celebrate Susan. Ah, if only life were that simple. The M conveniently overbooked their hotel rooms (how do you do that? you are a hotel, not an airline)- I blame both the Texas Tech women's B-ball team and the K-State men's B-ball teams who were staying there as well (oh how that brought back memories of hotel trips during college track, but I digress). Luckily, the M in one foul swoop offered up a $75 dollar cash voucher-or-a free paid night at the Courtyard M a few blocks away, before coming back to the M for our last night. Um, door number 2 please. And the bonus Jonas of it all was, getting a pimp up-grade to an executive suite and a tray with a bottle of Merlot and fruit waiting for us when we came back to the M. Score. But whatevs, the hotel switch didn't dampen our spirits, we got to dine at Alba, where we afraid that we were going to be the main attraction in some ritual sacrifice of non-upper crust-yuppies (Boulder water anyone?), and hung out with the female half of the wedding party while they prepped for the day. The wedding was beautimous, as were Susan and her new Mr. Elliott :0) Baby Jake was the best wedding date a gal could ask for and we partied hardy until late into the night (I will note that several of us kept looking up waiting for the ceiling to retract).

A Dad and a Dave. All that a girl can ask for.

Danielle and Ris.

Brothers. His and Hers sets.

the new and improved Mr. and Mrs.

The best wedding date...drool and all.

Ris, M oh' H.

Adorbs.

Toast. Tear Jerker.

See even Jake coordinated his oxygen tank.

Goodbye Mrs. W!

All-in-all, a fab start to the great race of weddings and dream vacations this year :0) Now back to the real world, and the realization that I am on pager call tomorrow while also being in possession of tickets to a Joshua Radin concert. Guess what I'm gonna do.....

=Rock On, LT=

PS: Here's the reference to the blog title, the legendary Callhoun Tubbs.
And lest you think I forgot, GO PACKERS! Woot...(watched every game, even in Vegas, plus a Super Bowl party at home)

1•1•11

2011-01-01T21:03:00.000-05:00

Well, another year down.
This time last year, I was hobbling around with a booted foot wishing that boot was half of a pair of snowboarding boots, but alas it wasn't to be. This year, I am recovering from a night well spent with friends in B'more and prepping for a seriously adventurous 2011. The adventures begin in 2 weeks with a trek to Vegas for bachelorette fun followed by a week in Colorado for baby playing and skiing [here's to praying I make it there and back in one piece]. Those exploits are to be followed at regular monthly intervals with weddings in Colorado and San Antonio, the AAN Neurology Conference in Honolulu, another wedding on Jekyll Island, a trip across the pond trip to Italy around my birthday, a Labor day wedding, and another wedding to be determined somewhere in the mix. I am seriously tired just thinking about it all. I also have to take into account that my ENTIRE hospital is moving across town to merge with the Navy hospital; oh goody getting to deal with the pitfalls of merging two different management stylings, hey Army meet the Navy. This past year was definitely a full one, I don't think I missed out on doing anything I set out to. I turned 30 in style, saw 67 new movies this year, read 20 books [not including the ones I re-read], went to at least 4 concerts [I'm having a mental block remembering some of the earlier months], travelled, saw the Pack play LIVE, played LOTS of Ultimate, and discovered droves of new friends. Below are a couple of things I loved about this year that I haven't yet blogged about earlier :0)

•••

My favorite band, hands down [sorry Muse]. I had the pleasure of catching the whole band in NYC this fall, and the lead singer Alex solo here in DC this month. Such a great sound and lyrics. I have to thank Ryan Reynolds and Chaos Theory for introducing me years ago [see my older post on CT]. This year I also discovered the musical stylings of Tired Pony [Gary Lightbody from Snow Patrols fronts this group, phenomenal], The Boxer Rebellion, and The Band Perry [yea, I like country alot].

Gotta love dragons. HTTYD was one of the best movies I saw this year. It's included on my top 10 list as well as The Kings Speech, Salt, Inception, The Social Network, The Kids Are Alright, The Book of Eli, Alice in Wonderland, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo [seen in it's original Swedish as it was intended], and Kick-A**. Even seeing as many as I did, there are still about 10 movies I never got around to seeing this past year.

Ah, Katniss Everdeen. A heroine a girl can identify with. I wish more characters were written like her. I made the mistake of saying this series was the best YA series I have ever read, but realized I forgot Harry Potter was YA as well, not adult, oops. So it is definitely the second best. Along with One Day, these are the books that made my year. I am currently reading Lamb right now so we will see how 2011's literary life turns out.

•••

I usually buck the New Year's trend of resolving to do something, but this year I plan score a perfect on my APFT, so I guess you can call that my resolution. That and studying my arse off :0)

And, oh yeah, if you haven't been paying attention, it is officially the first day of the second half of my fellowship training. Let the countdown begin...

=LT=

•••Lurve Is In The Air•

2010-10-31T00:56:00.000-04:00

And I swear it is catching fire. I playfully include the beautiful wedding of my friends, Ambs and Mal in what I have dubbed, 'The Second Wave'. This is the round of friends getting all married up several years after completing schooling, while 'The First Wave' is busy procreating. Having known Ambs over 10 years, I expected no less than exceptionally classy for wedding and I was not disappointed.

Envision it: Laguna Beach. Sunset. Gazebo overlooking the ocean. Small intimate gathering. Father of the bride officiating. Mother of the bride as the maid of honor. And a couple so enveloped in their love, no one and nothing could steal their joy.

•• C'est l'amour ••

Mal

Ambs and her father

Mr. C

I Bleed•••

2010-10-30T23:05:00.002-04:00

Green and Gold.

Simply put.

No I am not from Green Bay. No I am not from Wisconsin.

As a matter of fact, I am from far below the Mason-Dixon line, a little to the left of the Mississippi, at the point right before you hit ocean and Mexico.

No matter that my hometown has it's own football team, I have never been a fan of theirs.

Blame my father, his allegiance to anything is so fickle there was no way the hometown team would sway my heart.

So I am that strange fan who has no ties to 'my team' other than: 'I liked their colors the best when in I was in elementary school.' But no one can ever call me a fair-weather fan, good times or bad (oh Lord, there has been some bad) I pull for my team.

Even that one miraculous time, the hometown team made the big show. I faithfully cheered against them and was happy deep inside when they were annihilated by another team I disliked.

Often I feel like I am without a home base when I comes to loving the boys, but then you forget...cheeseheads are EVERYWHERE. Not lying. Just sit on a park bench for about an hour and I guarantee (*guarantee not binding) you will spot a few folks rocking Packer Pride.

A few years back I was asked who are you going to cheer for now that 'the retirement' has been finally announced. Um, hello the Pack is not one person and I loved them, losing record and all, before the hall of fame era began.

Anyhoo, I was deliriously happy my boys came to town this month (it's been 2 years since I've gone to a game), but fustrated that McCarthy seemed to have dropped his playbook in the toilet during halftime. Depsite the loss (and the ones the weeks before and after) getting to watch the Pack play live is still sweet to my soul. For now I will settle for the times when they are visiting a team in a city I live near, but the bucket list definitely has Lambeau Field on it.

•LT•

USMC Band

•In Why See•

2010-09-19T23:51:00.001-04:00

Spontaneous is by no means my middle name or even related to me, but on occasion I have been known to venture over to the dark side where he convinces me to color outside the lines. This past labor day weekend was one such occasion.

On Wednesday night, I conceded that indeed, one of my favorite small rock bands, The Damnwells, was playing a show in NYC (the city of big shoulders...or big shoulder bags whichever) for $15 the following night, right before the start of my 4 day weekend....holla! After much deliberation, tickets were bought, a bus seat was booked, a hotel secured, and a purse dog settled into her overnight babysitters. It was an exceptionally low key weekend, if you discount walking thru the Gossip Girl TV show set (oops, my bad), going to a Yanks game wearing a fuchsia dress in a sea of blue and white (sore thumb would be an understatement), enjoying a drag show for K's stag (fortuitous stroke of luck being able to celebrate with her), and suffering the wrath of a dilapidated Hurricane Earl (he had me carrying an umbrella for no reason, I get more wet than that when I sweat). My understated tour of NYC this time around also included walking across the Brooklyn Bridge, maybe next time I actually get to do more in some of the other boroughs aside from Manhattan than stepping into them.

Seeing The Damnwells was awesome (they played the entire new album-- completely fan funded recordings) and was definitely worth the ride on the nasty Chinatown bus. I should have know it was going to be a fab weekend when I had a chance encounter with one Gia Miller-- genius pediatrician, great teacher/advocate, and an all around cute little piece of Italy in the States-- randomly on the streets of Chinatown DC as I ran for the bus. People are definitely the thing I miss most about San Antonio.

September is continuing to be a slightly busy month, with, what seems to be, my annual fall trip to America's Finest City for some family and friend time, as well as to celebrate with Ambs as she gets married, coming up. Besides the Packers/Skins games and SYTYCD in October with a possible drive up to Pitt in November for thanksgiving, my fall will be work filled at a new hospital.

It makes Colorado in Jan and Feb, then SA in March that much more worth it :0)

••LT••

Mariano Rivera...closers don't often come better than this.

Bachelorette parties, embarrassing brides since 1868.

There are no words, but 'she' did have great legs.

•Dear Flower••

2010-08-17T00:50:00.001-04:00

Hello. My name is LT and I am addicted to procrastination...

There I said it. It's out there in the open. Can't take it back now.

It doesn't matter what it is.

I procrastinate going to bed.

I procrastinate getting up.

I procrastinate making dinner, and THEN procrastinate on deciding to order food, so most places are closed and I end up hungry.

I procrastinate on writing little pithy blog entries such as this...considering I planned on writing this at least 1 hour ago.

But maybe just maybe, it's not procrastination. What if it's fascination? For example--

Should I be asleep? Yes.

Should I be working on my upcoming lectures since I am not asleep? Most definitely.

But what's the fun in that. Well....

Considering the ridculous bend my dreams have been rocking lately, I should definitely be rushing back to bed everynight. I'm seriously jealous of my own dream life.

I blame my early AM in-the-bed-a-few-more-minutes procrastination routine on my fascination of what could happen next in the dream. I seriously try to squeeze out a couple more minutes of shut eye to see if I can ride it out to the end. But it never ends, and I keep hitting snooze, resulting in procrastination to leaving for work.

So, what on earth could possibly keep me (almost nightly) from my much more fabulous alter ego...my random plethora of waking hours fascinations. Find me something obscure to comb through, go over, or just stare at, and poof several hours are gone. And forget it if there is a crummy 80s movie I own and have seen about 14 times playing on USA, I will watch that sucker until the end. And just like that, there go any well laid plans had for refreshing sleep and masquerading as a cooler, more confident me.

And as this blog entry post is yet another distractor, I should probably wrap it up. But I wanted to leave you with a little bit of tonight's random.

A tiny story to put smile on your face.

@hitRECordJoe is to thank for this. Him and his lil show...

••LT••

Dirtying Up My ••Thirty••

2010-07-23T23:12:00.007-04:00

How does one best spend her 30th birthday extravaganza? With family, friends, and bashing about LA course. My actual born-day was spent sitting in airports, playing RockBand and having dinner with my family and B. The next day saw B and I hitting Robertson, me eating the best omelet ever (great little italian place called Il Piccolino), and us seeing Doris Roberts (Everybody Loves Raymond) on the street corner. We capped off our day with some lounging by the pool at The Standard Hotel Hollywood and then hitting up The W Hotel Hollywood for our night out. For our after party trick, with amazing skill, 7 people managed to all simultaneously fall asleep at the Standard, but none of them was the guy who's room it was. The day after was glorious...lounging on Manhattan Beach with Lu and B, follwed by bystander entertainment at Twelth and Highland by 'The Jew Crew' (I did not pick that name). I then got in some good face-time with KT and Mel. Much love goes out to my brother for allowing a whole bunch of chicks to take over his bachelor pad, making a great home cooked family dinner, and taking us out on the town. Love you!

•••LT•••

Below are a few pics from the night out. BTW- Such a fun dress...my shoes are in love.

LT, B, KT, Mel, and Hales

Red and Hales

Lu and B

Chris, Lu and LT

Yeah, we totally have the same parents...

The W Hotel Hollywood

One Day

2010-06-19T20:01:00.006-04:00

"YOU CAN LIVE YOUR WHOLE LIFE

NOT REALISING THAT WHAT YOU'RE LOOKING FOR

IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU."

That is a great tag line. I just finished the book 'One Day' by David Nicholls. I picked it up randomly in the London airport on the way back to the states a few weeks back. I am a self admitted book nerd, and usually end up re-reading classic (or not so classic) books that I love, but also have a knack for picking up a random book, reading it's tag line and it's synopsis, and then opening to a random page and seeing if the flow of the story can grab me. That's how this one hooked me. It was alluring (in ways I only wish I was), and was set in London-- which piqued my interest perfectly because I was preparing to go in to some serious London DTs soon [ie: withdrawal, for my nonmedical friends :0)]. The story was great, making you feel apart of the characters lives, and the last few chapters so endearing (I managed to not tear up though-- I'm such a cryer), definitely a shelf keeper. It does make you wonder about the reality of soul mates a bit though...people who after years, distance, other relationships and the such, somehow still end up together. It's sometimes seems unfathomable to me in this day and age that something like that would still occur, but it continues to warm my heart a little bit thinking that it does. What can I say, I'm a romantic.

Anyhoo, they are turning it into a movie with Anne Hathaway and that guy from 'Across the Universe'...at least the author is writing the screen play so hopefully they won't mess it up too bad.

=LT=

••Pink Elephants On Parade••

2010-06-02T21:54:00.036-04:00

I was right. London freaking rocks my socks. Not just the city but the undercurrent that drives it. Maybe it was just me. Maybe it was just the cider. But I'll take it. The jolt of life I got there is exactly what I needed to make it through this last month of arduous adult neurology slogging. Sure we had a bumpy start, sure we saw the main tourist attractions of the city [as well as some outside of the city], but the heart of my trip was the people and the ride.

Have you ever been set up on a blind date? Well the best pieces of our adventure started like that, and it was love at first meeting. My friend and I were set up by one of her close friends from our college days [who I swear knows ALL my friends from college, we literally existed in parallel and over lapping circles of friends, but ran never in the same one; well I did know his wife in school] with his American cousin living in the city. His edict to her was-- take care of them. So what did we do? Quickly inserted our-crazy-selves into their peaceful little lives. :0) We had a blast just hitting up house parties, bbq's, and pubs. Lounging on Primrose Hill with a amazing picnic spread [Ali you rock], Pimm's, frisbee, and ice cream in the blazing sun is the absolute best way to bounce back from a late night adventure that quickly turned into an early morning adventure [who knew the sun comes up at 4am in London, we do now]. My best memories from the trip are made up of homemade pancakes at 3am with too many cloves [my bad, my options were limited], taxi cab driver #11, the Pub Giant, a gay brawl, 647 steps to the 2nd floor of the Eiffel Tower, 175 steps up to the surface of Russell Square, impotent cigarettes, butlers in the buff, Therese and Ali, Gaz, Leila, Harri and Matt, & Ilona...with a Farkie to top it off.

In many ways though, this trip also reminded me of my most memorable spring break in college, where soooo many things went wrong, but the way we all got through them, the trip had no chance but to rock. How else can I explain Farkie's domestic flight being 4 hours delayed into DC for no earthly reason, the 5A bus never showing up at Rosslyn and having to jump in a cab with our new friend Katie to bust it to the airport on time, or them not having our seats reserved on our outbound flight and having to scramble for seating [at least we got bulk head seating together], or the in-flight entertainment not working the whole 7 hour flight out, coupled with me forgetting the docking station to my laptop, so we couldn't watch the DVDs we had brought just in case, or the fact that neither of us could sleep that flight out. Also, we not only fried our converter, but nearly caught Farkie's hair on fire with sparks being emitted from her hairdryer, our first day in town. Thankfully, travel back to the states was less hectic minus the jerk at VAT customs and the a-hole American who screamed at Farkie in the airport.

We were thankful we had brought summer over with us because our first 4 days were gorgeous, the weather would have been perfect had they ever heard of A/C in that country. I swear that was our pseudo-theme of the trip, first no A/C in the DC metro car we rode in on the way to the airport, then none on the tube in London, in our hotel room in London, and in so many of the buildings. Paris wasn't much better, or so we thought. Classic Farkie and LT styles, the morning we are to head back to London...she notices the panel, I notice the vents, and the light bulbs light up. We must have geriatric hamsters for brains because we suffered for 3 days sans A/C when it was there the whole time, Paris 1 -- Us 0. Oh, and the Parisians don't believe in elevators or lifts at their metro stops, even with heavy luggage, Paris 2 -- Us 0.

Oh, yeah we went to Paris too, if you couldn't tell. The architecture and food there are still beautiful and wonderful, the attitudes are still shite.

BTW, guess who seriously lost it, like she was a little girl at a Jonas Brothers concert, when she saw the Queen and her husband less than 50 feet away from her? Yeah that was me.

When can I go back?

=LT=

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Trouble come in 2s...

Overexposure...perfect start to the trip.

LT and Leila

You know you wanna

Ali, Therese, Gaz

Mushy peas are so not the vision.

Winner Winner Chicken Dinner

Anglophile.

Long lens shot.

And walk we did...

Millineum Bridge

Modern Art...loves.

Ok, not really...

London Ayyyyeeeeee...

Yep, still scared of heights

Benny and Parliment from the Eye

Benny

Flag up, the Queen's in.

I saw you twitch, ok maybe it was just a little dance.

If you can, zoom into the back of the car...Queen E is on the right and Prince Philip on the left

Prince P and Queen E's Hair, up close and personal

Windsor Castle

Windsor Percision

If you don't know, slap yourself.

Bath....Home of Jane Austen.

Yeah, you so couldn't pay me...

Stop looking at me squirrel!

Welcome to Paris...

Montmarte

647 soggy steps later..

Paris Cafe LT, Version 3.0

I'm baaack...

Sacre Coeur

Roland Garros!!!

Ilona and Michael, our Butler in the Buff

Can't think of better way to end our trip :0)

•LT••Interrupted•••

2010-04-27T22:55:00.004-04:00

I was just remarking the other day about how "small" the world has gotten. I bet it has always been the same size, but interfaces like FBook and such make life's little interconnections much more obvious. What makes me maniacally laugh [and truthfully a little embarrassed] though, is the slight twinge of jealousy and territorialness [probably not a word] when two people I know from different walks of life have some sort of connection. It's like: "Hey! They belong to me, you can't have them too. Although I am equally possessive of you both. Smile." I seriously even feel that way sometimes within a group of friends, when someone I'm close with is also close to someone else [who I'm friends with, but maybe not as close to] and they do things without me.

Green-eyed meanie could be my nickname I swear, but Fickle and Self centered are probably more appropriate. It's a sickness. As a pretty social person myself, I don't really understand why I feel the way I do, I don't always hang with the same person in a group. Ugh. Maybe it's my problem with change, or better phrased, my preference for constancy around me. Or maybe there's deep seated a fear of losing a friend to another, like being rejected because someone changes allegiances. Or because subconsciously I think the world revolves around my complete awesomeness [that's a laugh] and I need to be involved in everything. Man, I'm neurotic.

Mercy, internal conflicts are draining...

On a totally different note, vacation is sooooo close I can smell it :0) 10 glorious days of freedom await me so soon. Heading over to London and Paris....want me to bring you something back??

•LT•

" The only way to have a friend is to be one" -Ralph Waldo Emerson

•Letting Go•

2010-03-13T13:46:00.008-05:00

So, it had been eating at me for some time, the urge to yet again, stop torturing my poor hair follicles and cease chemically relaxing my hair. I think I made the decision multiple times over the past 6 months, but always acquiesed when my hair curled up reeeeeaaaaaalllly tightly after a good work-out, and I was using alot of heat to blow it back out. I rationalized that one would have to go, either working out or my new natural hair growth, guess which thing I kept.

But bring on December and my gift from the devil called Klutzy: a gimptastic walking boot (see previous post if you need a refresher). So guess who didn't do any strenuous working out for >2 months, but lots and lots of research on how to properly take care of her hair in its natural kinky-curly state...me. So now I am 3 months sans chemical relaxer, rocking a bird's nest close to the scalp with paint brush straight ends of varying lengths. I did this a little different in medical school and went straight to what's termed as the big chop (taking it all off down to the newest growth), but I didn't have the restriction of the military hair code then. Now I'm at a cross road with increasing length of the new very curly hair and the contraband straightened ends. So we'll see how long I am willing to rock the straight stuff until I chop it off. I need to be cognizant of what I will be able to do with my curly hair as it gets longer and still stay uniform and Army Strong. Maybe it'll be back to perpetual braids/twist until I can manipulate my own hair into a slicked back bun.

Here is a little flashback of what I looked like over the 1 and 1/2 years I was natural. Just think I could be >4 years out if I had just stuck with it. So don't be shocked it you randomly see me and I have another teeny wean afro :0)

Shortly after my Big Chop in 2005

Braids were my best friend for work

Almost 1 year...flat twists up front with picked out half afro

Freshly washed hair, right before the betrayal...about 1.5 years natural

Natural Fail...Relaxed hair July 2007

My • Oh • My

2010-02-18T16:55:00.018-05:00

What a ride February has been. This is a long one, you may want to get a snack...

It was so benign for those first...4 days. If I had any idea of the gauntlet I was preparing to run...I might of turned tail, but alas, I'm a sucker for punishment, good friends, and the idea that you only live once. After much finagling of the call schedule back in January, everything was set, the light was green and my San Antonio/Austin backflash was a go. Breakfast get togethers were planned, hotels and flights booked, the right dress and shoes picked, and then the weatherman uttered his favorite curse word again: BLIZZARD. For all that is Holy, what? Come on, this is DC. You told me about 1 month ago that you NEVER get snow like that and now you are predicting a second serious storm this season starting the day I am supposed to fly out. Oh, just my luck! I heard you wrong, there are actually 2 storms coming, back-to-back.

So, with that little pearl of wisdom... I hoped against hope that my flight Friday wouldn't get cancelled. But as soon I was all checked in on Thursday night, I get the text from AA.com--your flight for tomorrow is cancelled. Whoa, they cancelled it 24 hours in advance, this must be serious. So obviously the easy choice is...just leave earlier in the day, psssshhh, it's only a small snafu that I was slated to work until 1630hrs Friday, I'd find a way. Plus this was going to be just like the last storm (got about 16" then) and the airport will be open on Sunday, no problem. Because I'm not that lucky, I couldn't find any open flights direct in DFW from DCA, but hey you can leave 4 hours earlier fly into STL, then to DFW, and then to SA and only arrive about 30 minutes earlier than your previous arrival. Whatever, I'll take it, just get me out of the district. So with the hopeful flight booked I packed my bags and went to work that Friday morning. In order to get there on time, I was going to have to take the Metrorail, easy, but I wouldn't have time to take my car back, so I needed to ride the Metrobus to work, and then to the Metrorail come the right time...er, the bus? I sucked it up, prayed that I would know when to pull the little cord thingy and not miss my stop. As I walked out of the hospital to the bus stop, there was only the lightest sprinkle of snow, not even sticking. By the time was plane was preparing to pull out of the gate about 1 hour later, we had to be de-iced. God, please don't let the plane crash. Needless to say I made it to Texas, with a small detour to STL where I got meet a lot of freshly graduate AIT students en-route to Ft. Hood and Ft. Sam, and even was able to run and get bumed up onto an earlier flight from DFW to SA.

My visit was perfect, I was able to see great friends in San Antonio, eat two of the best breakfasts ever made, reconnect with people I haven't seen since college, and watch a great friend take a fabulous bride (check the pictures). Life was good.

Mr. Wilton and Mrs. Nancy Reynolds

But DC was not. This storm (aka snowpocalypse) was no joke...many friends were trapped at home behind 30+" of snow. Another fellow, who lives across the street from me, told me, 'Oh we only got about 24" where we are.' Oh, just only 24", in 36 hours...crap. There is no way they are ready for that. I was right, all flights into DCA were cancelled for Sunday AND Monday. My SA peeps tried to convince me to stay in SA, but I needed to be at DFW so I could get a quick direct flight to DCA, asap because I was on adult inhouse call on Moday and no one else could take it due to clinic obligations on Tuesday. So my lovely friend Joni, acquiesced and agreed to come and get me from the airport on Super Bowl Sunday, so I could hunker down with her family (whom I love to pieces) if I couldn't find a way back earlier. I was able to finally slide into a reinstated flight leaving DFW Monday at 1725hrs, but I wouldn't get into DCA until 2145hrs, still no good, but I took it. I let Joni know to come and get me and hoped my flight from SA to DFW at 1540hrs. While on the flight, some guy was talking about how he was flying into NYC that night and thank God they didn't get any snow. The tiny hamsters in my brain must have drank some red bull becasue they were off to the races. If NYC was open, that's only 3 hours from DC, I can crash at the airport overnight and wait for a flight as soon as one is available, or OMG is Amtrak running again? I get off the plane and start frantically using my phone to find out. Hot damn, Amtrak has select service into DC from NYC running still, and lo & behold American has a flight in 2 hours to NYC LaGuardia which would get me there in time for the 0330hrs train into DC. Unfortch for her, Joni has already picked me up and we are heading to Aledo as these revealations become clear. So we make a quick detour so I can see her brother and then head back to the airport (I totally owe you gas money by the way). [Sidebar: I lounged in the USO while awaiting my flight, these places are awesome, free food, internet and the superbowl playing...glad I serve our country]. I got into NYC at 0030hrs and with the help of my New York Melissa got from LaGuardia to Penn station. There I bought a homeless man a meal from McDonalds and then settled down to wait for my train ride. It was a NE Regional so it made several stops and I didn't get into Union Station until 0700hrs. I managed to Metro to the underground stop closest to Walter Reed (took about 1 hour since they were running only underground trains) and prayed for the buses to be running, but they weren't until 0900, and it was 0745. Knowing I should have been there 45 minutes ago, I had no choice but to hoof it.

Mind you, if you have seen my most recent blog post, you know I have been in a walking boot. I was in it for almost 6 weeks when I self discontinued it. My ortho doc wasn't super upset, but he slapped with a profile forbidding running, high impact exercises, or strenuous walking >400 meters. So here I was, with my carry on luggage, backpack, and in Emu fluffy shoes trudging 3 miles to Walter Reed in snow and slush. Who knew the route heading out of DC was uphill, now I do. I took me an hour and a bit to walk the distance (I turned down the creepy dude in a 4Runner asking me how much I would pay him to drive me some place. Please fool I'd rather walk in pain than let you benefit from exploitation), but I got there in one peace.

Thankfully, my call was awesome...no admits or consults. But my long story doesn't end there. The buses were only running limited routes on Tuesday (one right by my apt thankfully), the above ground Metrorail was still down, and although I about 2 miles from work the strained right groin muscle and sore right foot from the walk the day before forbade me from walking home with luggage, so the bus it was. I'm sure you heard the Federal gov't closed down for 4 days straight, but guess what never truly closes...a hospital. So Wednesday if you weren't necessary you got to stay home from work...joy, oh wait I was on call again, and guess what, the second storm had started that Tuesday night, with true blizzard conditions predicted Wednesday with up to 16" more of snow. I told my right foot and groin to shut up, got up early and start to walk to work (because the buses weren't running until 0900 running again). Thank goodness for my uniform because some other lucky individuals heading into WR picked me up. I got in about 0700 with only light snow falling yet again, but within about 1-2 hours it was white-out conditions, which lasted through the night. I survived that night with only 1 admit and got a ride home from my attending the next morning, and promptly crashed on my couch. I don't even know the total for the snow that day, let's just say snow drifts were so large they were covering SUVs. Finally everything seemed settled, I safely had my car parked in a public parking garage (darn garage thieves at my apt bldg), so it wasn't covered with snow for the drive in Friday, and I didn't have to reschedule my clinic since it was already scheduled for that day anyway.

So suffice it to say, that was an interesting 7 days. What I can tell you, is that customer service doesn't seem to be dead. All that flight switching was free of charge and done easily by the AA rep, imagine my surprise. All I had to do was pay for my Amtrak ticket, because I already had a NY MTA card in my wallet (sweet serendipity) as well as my trusty Metro Smartrip card. I am otherwise back to my normal routine minus hitting up the gym for spin/bootcamp. Currently on day 11 of 21 days of working [and/or doing work related conferences], to be capped off by the neurology ITE (in-training exam) and then Muse in concert at Fairfax on Mar 1!! Yesssssssss. Oh and by the way it snowed again 3 days ago...the prospect of spring never looked so good.

Peace, LT

The White-Out from the hospital.

The gate to enter the Post is beyond the trees below and usually very visible on a clear day.

••This Boot Was Made For Hobbling••

2010-01-04T23:28:00.025-05:00

Happy January 2010 :0) Check out the most festive eye wear ever me, Brandy and Janine are rockin... there were some great games of Dominoes and Texas Hold 'Em Poker played that night. But let's backtrack shall we...

I think the month of December started off on a pretty darn high note, I skeedaddled down south to Suffolk to kick it with the Newmans, played some much needed RockBand, MarioKart, and watched the amazing Alegria Cirque du Soleil show. Also managed to avoid the first DC snow fall of the year while down there. But reality came roaring back with a nice 2 week stretch of q3 inhouse adult neuro call leading straight into the realization that I am not in Texas or Cali anymore. It hit when as I was enjoying an Eddie Griffin comedy show with my cousins and aunt in B'more, is started to snow, and snow it did...about 16-18 inches in the areas immediately around me. The 35 mile drive home was terrifying and took me 2 hours, ugh I have no desire to continue to brave weather like that in a Ford Focus, bring on the 4WD or AWD please. As for the holidays, I didn't do anything to celebrate chanuckah, yule, christmas, kwanzaa, or whatever this year, eh. I did have a homemade Chinese dinner, a good stretch of catching up on my movie watching, and great company/convo courtesy of some adult neuro residents however. So where does that leave me...

Ah, December 28, 2009. The day I discovered, as it turns out, I couldn't walk over perfectly normal ground without injuring myself, aye. But in classic LT style, not only do I not get a really cool story about my fracture (I stepped off a curb wrong in Bethesda), but I also get fracture a measely little bone that's hardly ever thought of until you try to push off of, or stand on, the ball of your foot when it is fractured. But nevertheless, I perservered and still hobbled my booted bootie out to San Fran and Tahoe for my much anticipated snow weekend because I deserve a vacay darn-it. The trip was much needed and very fun. I told Brandy I was not there to see SF, I was there for Tahoe, so to South Lake Tahoe we went. Suffice it to say there are many things you can do when down one limb (especially when you can squiggle your way into getting your doc to say limited weight bearing instead of no weight bearing) in the snow. Just imagine you are a kid who is not going to snowboard or ski and do what they would do (save snowmen and snow angels). Below are some great pictures of our adventures at the Heavenly Ski Resort on the CA side of Lake Tahoe (we stayed at a friend's place on the Nevada side) to include the gondola ride with a fantastic view (pics don't do it justice), snow tubing, snow mobiling, and braving the perils of walking along a ice shelf on Lake Tahoe (hmm...maybe this isn't just the sandy beach area frozen over like we thought).

All in all action packed December to maybe or maybe not remember. But we musn't forget that this month made me a BOARD CERTIFIED PEDIATRICIAN and brought officially 1/2 way thru my 1st year of fellowship (yay!). I still feel immensely happy that I am blessed to be able to to do what I am doing. Currently, looking forward to the coming year, Wilton/Nancy's wedding in Feb, Muse in March, a trip to England with T in May, turning 20-10 myself in July, and possibly Cozumel with the Briscoes in late July (all of that in just the first half of the year!).

Sweet, LT

Eddie and I

Living Room w/a View

My car only 1/2 way thru the blizzard

Gondola to Heaven, ahem Heavenly

Going Up...

Gondola Shots

Lake Tahoe from the Gondola

Going Down...

At the 'Top of the Mountain' (but not really the summit, I couldn't ride the lifts any further)

Are you talking about us?

LT and B

Lounging prior to Tubing

Escalator to Heaven (good luck staying upright on 2 good feet let alone 1)

Me, the Boot, and 'The PUSHER'

B before she finally gets a reprive from me to go take a couple snowboard runs

B and Chris on the Lift

Snowmobiling at Hope Valley/Kirkwood

Night shot

Shaky shot of our group

Me and our guide Bob (yes, I know his name was really Bob, how I love it)

Obligatory pose

Lake Tahoe Ice Shelf (yeah that is not snow over sand, and yes it is slick)

Ice Shelf Posing before we freak out and rush to shore

Hasta!

•••Patience•••

2009-11-06T22:59:00.006-05:00

"Becoming an parent is the most selfless act, and you need to be at a point in your life where you can give up anything and everything for a child."- SMG

Ran across that quote today. I whole-heartedly agree with it too. I kind of made me laugh knowing it was from an actress who used to be my favorite vampire slayer, but then realized...she's just another person in this crazy overactive world too, and she happens to have the same point of view I carry. Alot of people I know look at me funny when I say that right now I have no desire to have children. The first response is usually the classic, 'But you're a pediatrician, don't you like kids?' Of course I do, I LOVE kids, but I know kids, I know parents, and I know me. I am far too selfish and type-A right now to be what I the type of parent I would have to be. I've seen first hand what a little bit of parental distraction coupled with a little neglect (or better said, lack of active investment) can do to a child with great potential. I can hear the arguments now, but life is messy, nothing is ever perfect, it's all about balance, etc. Be that as it may, I still think there is a certain amount of sacrifice necassary at minimum to be a great parent and too many children don't get it from their parents. So until I can get beyond myself and past that sacrifical limit, the next generation will have to wait...

••• Ahem, Are My Cleats Dirty? •••

2009-10-25T20:12:00.006-04:00

I used to always wonder after college when I saw people in their 30s, 40s, 50s, or even 60s, pick up distance running, and suddenly have an epiphany of "I should have been doing this all my life", what would be my personal post college athletic epiphany. Sorry to say it, but I will likely never have that running epiphany; not because I don't run, which I do to appease Uncle Sam, but because I am not built for sustained endurance (hmmm, and I ran XC for 2 years). I have type II fast twitch muscle fibers (thank you very much) and they really don't like to go more than 1 mile at a time if forced (ok, who am I kidding 400m). Even when I was rocking at my optimum athletic conditioning, the 12 minute-run test was evil. Thankfully, I think I have found my non-medical calling...Ultimate Frisbee. It's a sport I don't mind getting dirty, bruised, and winded for. And it involves short bursts of sprints, lunging, and jumping, which are some things I am actually familiar with. I laugh at realizing that I have made more use of my cleats for Ultimate than my tennis rackets, softball glove, baseball glove, and beloved track spikes combined. Glad to have found something to keep me happily occupied out here (joined a rec league) and hopefully for years to come. Now to shower because I am stinky and muddy :0)

•Snape Said It Best•

2009-10-18T00:26:00.013-04:00

'It is finished.' The boards. On Monday. Thank you Lord. Easier than I expected in many areas and more challenging in some. Won't get results 'til January, but eh...I'm done. I am now fresh off the Metro from a 4 day trip to Lou-A-Ville, Can-tuck-ee for the Child Neurology Society conference. Had a good time too. There were many topics and lectures I enjoyed listening to, others that were too basic research/science for my taste. I managed to take an afternoon to explore the city despite the damp cold and took some rad photos (if I do say so myself, and I do). Hit up a rendition of Bram Stoker's Dracula at the Actor's Theater (saved $40 on the tickets), the Louisville Slugger factory, 21c hotel, the Science Center, the Glasswork factory and snuck a peek at the Ohio river bank to say hi to Indiana. Everything was wonderfully walkable from the hotels. I even got to see an old co-worker/staff (Dr. Faux) there and catch up. My hotel was comfy, but I was more than a little nervous being on the 17th floor...falling over the rail would be so not the vision. I was excited to leave the cold, damp, and dreary in KY and return to the cold, wet, and blustery in DC, stopping by the AAP conference in route home and to spend some time with Renee and Hava for a bit. Below are my L'ville pictures, hope you enjoy...time for bed. Next stop, NYC!!

Random Glass Structure at the Science Center

21c Hotel/Museum

21c Mascot

Awesome Overlay Piece

The President followed me to L'ville

Chuck Close is...so gifted

Yeah you see that right, 21c bedazzled their pimp Lincoln Towncar Limo...

Look at them being all 'Green' and European

Handle to bathroom at Borders...it was eye catching

Their trash cans were clean (ahem, NY)

Bats are made here.

•••Guess Who Survived Her 5K?

2009-10-04T23:46:00.009-04:00

Yeah, I totally survived, ran faster than I planned, but nothing worth publishing. Also who knew that the tunnel under the B'more harbor in 'U' shaped? Because me and Jax certainly didn't realize it. And let me tell you finishing the end of your race straight up hill is a mother. But hey I must be a sadist, because I promptly drove back to DC and played in an 2 hour Ultimate game. After a quick week of work, I took leave (or vacation for all you civilian folks), starting off with a weekend trip to Pittsburgh to hang with the Matos' and Luci, driving back down to DC, missing my 2.5 hour follow-up dentist appointment the next day (because I can't keep all my appointment slips right), but going to the amazing Muse and U2 concert later that night. My date for U2 (Dan, Jax's husband) was tore away from his ticket kicking and screaming by work, so I shanghai'd another (Malcolm, Amber's boyfriend) who totally enjoyed his first live concert (how's that for your first concert ever). A quick 12 hours later, I was out the door to the aeropuerto for some fun in the sun. Now, I've just got back from my quick little jaunt to 'America's Finest City' which was fairly relaxing if I say so myself. Got to hang with some of my family, surprise my brother at his graduation party, and actually go out for a night on the town. One day, my mom and I went had a nice workout along the bay (I think it brought out some festering shin splints). And I did manage to throw a little studying in there as well :0) My baby, Cheeks, made the trip out with me. She hasn't flown since she was 6 months old, and then she was doped up on Benadryl, but she still rocked it this go round. The trip to the left coast was the hardest with a layover in PHX and total trip time, from leaving the apartment here to grandma's house, of 12 hours (ugh)! The trip back was decidely quicker, but she was still just a fabulous. And of course she was fawned over and petted everywhere she went...she is such a princess.

Next up...Pediatric Boards in 7 days. I'm confident, but nervous...what happens I have temporary stupidity?!?!? Just gonna have to pray about it and leave the expression of all my knowledge stored in the deep crevices of my brain in His hands. I am super stoked though, once this is over it will free me up, so that I can fully focus on mastering neuro (I have only felt half engaged with splitting my studying), starting with a trip to the Child Neurology Society conference next week! Louisville here I come!

(ps. Happy Birthday PoPo)

••Nerve Racking••

2009-09-07T19:36:00.006-04:00

I by no means consider myself an eloquent speaker. Mostly due to the rapidity of my speech (some may call it 'pressured') and the fact that I hate being up in front of an audience :0) So lo and behold, I get the honor of being the Army resident who was selected to give 2 taped interviews about our humanitarian mission while our team was visiting a hosptial in La Paz, Honduras this past May. Oh, I might add, this was spontaneous "hey, we need you to do this for the 3 star general, right now...smile" type situation. Below is a video from the second interview, i distinctly remember feeling hot and flustered, but hey I survived. I'm still waiting to hear about the more lengthy interview.

ArmyLIVE: Honduras hospital visit from U.S. Army on Vimeo.

Also you can click here to link to my 1 line and picture from the interview Dr. G was doing with the Air Force Times.

Have a lovely week!!

•••The Devil Must Be Cold...

2009-08-18T22:14:00.007-04:00

...because I swear Hades just froze over. I, me, Latanya, after much persistent pursuit by my newly 10k and up, crazy runner friend Jackie, I have acquiesced and signed up to do a 5K. It may not sound that bad to you, but my legs and lungs start to cry every-time I think about it. I am totally built for speed and agility, not endurathons... Even when I was 'good' at covering the 5K distance, I thought I was gonna die. But alas, I am a competitor and need a goal to keep me hitting the gym 4-5 times a week like I have been. So we'll see how it goes. Otherwise, I am just settling into my new role(s) here in the Capital city. I am super eager to go explore and take photographs, so I may have to set off on some solitary journeys soon. But for now, I just finish the last push through August onto a September filled with trips to Cincy, NY (hopefully), and Cali, plus Muse and U2 in concert!!! Here a couple of touristy pics, I took the first weekend I arrived here.

Toodles ;0)

••Just Keep Swimming, Just Keep Swimming•

2009-07-01T20:53:00.007-04:00

Eeek! Today was my 'official first day' as a fellow in Child and Adolescent Neurology. Craaaaazzzzyyy. It's kinda surreal to be where I am now considering how long I've wanted this, exciting but still surreal. Almost like being a grown-up kind of.

But then I remember that I totally had a mini LT-style freak out a couple days ago though... I was calmly doing all my inprocessing when the sudden realization struck me...I start ON SERVICE in 2 days. As in, if a resident consults Peds Neuro, they are gonna get me...a fresh, straight outta residency fellow. The hamster in my head started running backwards trying to get away. Then the panic snowballed into an avalanche when I was like, shoot, where do I go? what do I actually do the 1st day? shouldn't I have a pager? Oh man, I need structure like it's my job and this nebulus 'just go with the flow' thing was SO not the vision! But thankfully, a senior fellow brought me in from the ledge. :0) Now after a full day complete with 3 hours of adult neuro orientation, having no pager still, seeing a cute kid with a faux-hawk, a last-minute-walk-in-turns-into-a-new-admit-right-at-the-end-of-clinic patient, realizing that I do indeed need to complete the 15 page credential packet, and great left over spaghetti for lunch, I am totally stoked :0)

It's definitely gonna be a steep learning curve with adult schtuff, taking in house adult call 6 months this year will hurt, and many days of intense reading (adult neuro, child neuro, neuro anat, neuro rad, eeg, and oh, studying for the peds gen boards) are ahead of me, but hey I've got a 4 day weekend in 2 days, my birthday is soon, and Jason Mraz is on the 25th!!!!

•Another One Bites the Dust•

2009-06-07T20:52:00.005-04:00

Ah... yet another 'graduation' under my belt. This one for my 3 years of pediatric residency. I didn't torture my family and ask them to come out to it, they have already been to 3 such blessed events. Anyhoo, here a couple pics from the day of in all our blue and green glory :0)