The Art of Wooing

I learned today that to be a success as an underdog in a big company is to schmooze. I was so nice to Dr. Whiner and to Dr. "Oh my God, this is a catastrophe," and Dr. "I want micro-molar written with Greek letters" and Dr. "Yeah Man, that's great." How was I able to accomplish such a feet? The MP3 player. What a brilliant and wonderful invention. I could put on my sweet tunes and drown everything out until the next Dr. so and so wanted my undivided attention. I was far more receptive, because I was calm and happy. I should do an info-mercial.

I never did have my beer then. I ran out of time. Maybe tonight after I study. I really need to do that - study that is. Thankfully, my friend super-bright and his friends are getting together for a biochemistry-fest. You see, my teacher tried too many of the chemicals he was working with in the 60's and 70's, and now has limited brains. I asked him a question about pKa values, and he went on some cryptic adventure into never-never land. I am fluent in English, and I had no idea what he was saying. It would be funnier if I didn't have to get a grade in this class. I really like the subject, he's just so useless.

My toe is healing nicely. I once removed a skin tag with sterilized nail trimmers. It never came back and I had no infection from it. I guess I believe in doing things myself. Once I bought a rocky-mountain oyster to dissect, and was totally disappointed to find that the "oyster" was not included. I was so disappointed. However, I did learn how to cut between blood vessels, and predict where the underlying ones were so as not to cause bleeding. I have no idea how useful this might have been, but I really enjoyed it. I also got some chicken's feet and took them apart layer by layer. I had no idea that there were that many ligaments and tendons in a foot.

To stick to the subject of wooing - did you know that rats are absolutely precious? My rat is so adorable. I love him so much. He's like a little bag of love. Okay, he's like a big blob of silly putty, but that's beside the point. I discovered that he needed more protein. His skin has always been a problem - he has an immune deficiency, but the other day I gave him a chicken bone and his skin looked so much better the next day. The little one will be getting more protein from now on.
I played an opera last week in Pennsylvania. That was pretty cool. We took it to a small town where the people just loved it. I don't imagine they got to hear that sort of thing very often. I also found a yummy coffeehouse out there in the middle of nowhere.

All right, I digress again and again. I need to go study. So, how have you been?

Recommendations

Ah yes, that wonderful 15 letter word - recommendations. I'm in search of people who think I'm great, or worthy, or knowledgeable. . . or anything otherwise positive and good-looking to medical schools. It's a very hard decision. Do I go totally conservative and ask professors and doctors? Should I have one of my students write one? Should I have my academic advisor? I sure hope not, she was not too helpful. What about my boss? Definitely not, he doesn't need to know that I plan to leave in a year.

Speaking of medical school - I performed surgery yesterday - on myself. You see, I have this pesky toenail that splits right down the middle, and sticks up, getting caught on absolutely everything. So, I decided it had to go. I pulled it out. The damn thing bled a lot, but I now have no more toenail problem. Truly masochistic, but I knew I could do it, I know how to stop bleeding, and I wanted it gone. Oh yeah, and I'm trying to stave off infection as well. Far more dangerous than declawing myself will be trimming my cat's claws later. He has very little patience for anything, and quite a nasty little temper. This should be interesting.

I need to go work on some secondary applications and my DO schools applications. One of these days I should study for biochemistry. The garage is almost painted, and there's woodwork in the kitchen, and the bathroom now has a floor and a toilet, so all in all, I'm doing pretty well.

Why the beer? I'm thinking of having one before bedtime. :)

I Have Learned my Lesson!

I was going to write about how my husband and I met, but that will have to wait, this was too good not to write about.

Jason and I were going to a rehearsal, and afterward decided to get Chinese food. Okay, that's horribly unkosher, but sometimes one needs broccoli beef. Or so I thought. . .

We get our meals and are sitting there chatting when I look up to see one of the workers cleaning the back wall behind the woks. He's using a mop. I of course am assuming that the red handle means this mop is for the wall only. How woefully wrong I was.

After he finishes with the wall, right over the woks - he did not move them - he starts cleaning the floor! With the same mop! I thought I was going to hurl. Then Jason noticed that he was rinsing his mop out in one of the woks filled with hot, soapy water! I am not kidding.

At least the water was hot and soapy. . .No! This was disgusting. I am not a superstitious person, but if ever I have felt God's finger tapping me on the shoulder reminding me that I shouldn't eat treif, this was it. I was punished. Lesson learned. No more Christmas Chinese food dates. . .

Shabbat Shalom

I'm exhausted, but I wanted to write for a bit. Today was a very stressful day at work. As I've said before, I work for the government doing drug testing and research and development. My job isn't that exciting - I do a huge amount of documentation, but as I say to myself, "If I can be organized enough to do this, I think I can handle anything." It's not a difficult job, just a very stressful one with a lot of responsibility. When mistakes are made people can die. I don't want to be the cause.

However, this is not what I set out to write about. I wanted to write about preparing for the Sabbath. Usually my husband and I are frantically cooking and cleaning and getting ready until the last second - literally. This time he suggested we get everything ready today. Brilliant! Not that we never thought about that, but rather we never tried it.

The best part about it was all the time I spent thinking about how lucky I am to have such a great husband. We are one of those rare couples that really loves, cares about, and respects each other. It is unfortunate that I've never met a couple as happy as we are. Maybe it's because we don't have a TV. I recommend that highly. We actually talk every day.

My husband always treats me like I'm precious, but as most women would agree - when he gets out the vacuum or does the dishes - we (women) are so happy. In 20 minutes we had the house clean and ready to go. Bliss.

The secret to a happy marriage? Choose wisely. I recommend a gentleman scholar. That's what I have. I married the kindest and most intelligent man I could find. Thankfully, he liked me too. How did we meet? That is too good of a story to tack on here. I'll tell that tomorrow. . .

The ice ball is a work of art by Andy Goldsworthy. Check out his work if you've never heard of him. It's really amazing.

But You're not a Princess. . .

I'm Jewish. I dress like a Jew. I talk like a Jew. I do Jewish things. I celebrate the holidays. I go to synagogue. I keep kosher. I'm learning Hebrew. I don't understand Orthodox Jews. . .

My husband and I go out to kosher restaurants occasionally, and we can't help but be both amazed and disgusted by the piles of orthodox Jewish kids and their princess mothers who let them act like little monsters. It doesn't make for a nice, relaxing meal. The fathers, if they're there, are gruff and unhappy.

It's nice that they want to replace 6 million Jews, but we've already done that. Can't we go back to parenting and having sensible, loving, families?

I don't fit in with Jewish women that are my age. I try not to gossip and spread nasty words about others - besides it's strictly forbidden by Jewish law. I am not trivial, and I don't care how much my decrepit handbag cost. I don't get my nails done. I don't wear flashy clothes, but I do have some nice headscarves.

Where I live, the Jewish community is small. I am outnumbered by many Jewish people who don't know much about Judaism. I certainly don't agree with all of Jewish law, writings, and practices, but it's a good start for how to be a worthwhile person. I suppose it's similar to the guy with a huge cross tattoo who goes home and beats his wife. Hypocrites exist everywhere.

What worries me is complacency. We are losing our traditions. One woman was openly hostile when I said I didn't like blow-drying my hair on Sabbath, or the time when I suggested that some cheese being served didn't look like the kinds that contain kosher rennet.

I am far from perfect. I will not leave lights on just because it's considered kindling a fire; I can't justify the energy waste. I have blogged on Saturdays. I ate crab rangoon a few weeks ago. I just hate to see such a beautiful tradition turning into the stereotypes. I mean, we were pretty poor when Shakespeare was writing about our money hungry ways. Somehow that rumor got started and people ran with it. Jews have always gotten a bad rap. How did the blood of Christian children matzo myth ever get started? We aren't helping the situation. My princess compatriots who wear their cutie little diva outfits and carry "Juicy Angel" purses make me want to cry. I am not like you, and I wish you weren't like you either!

Why Would you Want to. . .

I volunteer at an animal shelter for a few reasons, some of which are purely selfish. For one thing, I really care about the animals, and I try to give them my best, but I also understand that not every creature can be saved, and death is okay. I also climbed aboard because I want to be a surgeon, and I need a stronger stomach for nasty odors. This should do the trick nicely. I had no idea something so small and cute could smell so bad. There's the background - here's the story. . .

I went in on Sunday to do my normal rounds with the cats. I was merrily cleaning along, giving lots of love and making the cages as bright and happy a place as possible. I firmly believe a happy cat is a cat with something to cuddle and something with which to play. I get to my next cat - a pretty little petite orange tabby. Her cage says she's on medication, so I know to be gentle and patient. I reach in and lift her down, and realize she's peeing all over me!

My pants and shirt and shoes were all wet. It was already hot and humid there, but this was just gross. I was fine with it, because I know that nothing like that is ever deliberate, but it was a sanitation problem.

Then I notice my little one is bleeding - a lot. I couldn't tell from where, but somewhere in her nether regions. I ran to get the medical person (not a vet, but involved in medicine). In the meantime I went back upstairs to see if I could do anything. I noticed the blood was not very red, but pinkish.

I saw something that looked like raw flesh under her tail, and noticed she was cleaning frantically. Then I saw it - her very tiny fetus - she had miscarried. I should have known right away, since the fluids didn't smell like cat urine. I left her alone for a minute, and then gently picked her up and held her. I put her back in her cleaned cage, and took the kitten away.

It was neither traumatizing nor truly sad, but a moment of time stopping. I was amazed at the tiny little thing, and couldn't help but look at it. I felt sorry for the cat, but she seemed okay, and in some ways relieved, if I may personify this cat. This was my first experience with something like this, and it changed something in me, but I don't know what that is.

AMCAS

The applications are in the mail, along with my transcripts. It was actually a lot of fun filling out the application, because it was not just a boring resume-type of application. I had the chance to really think about me and the things I've done and put that on paper (screen?). I decided to show my personality a bit. When I wrote about my work/activities I added some detail that shows my character, not just what I accomplished. I imagine they get tons of those. . ."I was president of my class and graduated Summa cum Laude. . .," boring! I knitted mittens, wrote poetry, and tried to save the world through research and humanitarian aid.

My essay was also a lot of fun to write. I wrote several drafts. I changed topics. I tried all kinds of things until I found one that really reflected who I am. I condensed it down to one page. I tried to get as much information, as clearly stated as possible, into one very readable, and hopefully enjoyable page. Sweet.

At my work I pose as a chemist. No really, I am a chemist, but I don't tell them I'm going off to medical school in a year. It's so hard to kill myself everyday for the government and not talk about my future goals. Though I do have an awesome job, and it is the most stressful, horrible thing I've ever done in my life, I get to work with some fascinating stuff. . .damn I wish I could talk about it, but it's classified information. No really, it is. I think that's one of the reasons it's interesting - it's super-secret, and that's kind of exhilarating.

On a completely unrelated side note: my cats are precious, and my husband is the best.