Transplant

It's official. I've moved across the country. My new apartment is really cute (way to go Tom) and thanks to Ikea, is now almost completely furnished. I start my new job on Monday, everything's really coming together.

In other news, I've started a new blog. Because it's a fresh start, and because some of my old coworkers want to read my blog but I don't really need Dr. ACP knowing that I call him a cutie-pie on the internet. :) So, this blog is probably going to become inactive, and you can find me at my new blog:

TRANSPLANT!

see you there!

Pack Rat

You never really realize how much crap you've accumulated over the course of your adult life, until you try to fit it all into these.

Packing is depressing.

Things that Happened to Me Last Night

1. I ate cupcakes and cheesecake brownies at a bar. Because C can't go anywhere without baked goods. And that is why I love her so.
2. I did a shot of Patron. (I'm sure there's an accent mark on there somewhere, but I lack both the knowledge and will to add one.) It was really cold. I probably should have done that shot prior to losing all sensation in my tongue. Probably a wasted $9.25.
3. I knew that Mitt Romney thinks that the garden of Eden was in Missouri.
4. I did not know to dial 8-1-1 prior to digging.
5. I had a song called "Strokin'" dedicated to me and was required to go up and dance on the stage area. "I stroke it to the east, I stroke it to the west, I stroke it to the woman that I like best..." My friend Elizabeth loves this song and swears it will be the song of the first dance at her wedding. I totally believe her.
6. I drank what probably amounted to half a bottle of rum. (Which is why my liver spent today trying to punch me in the face.)
7. I rode home in a cab whose headlights didn't work. At 2 AM.
8. I spent one of my last nights in Birmingham with all the people that I love the most.
9. I realized how much I'm going to miss everyone.
10. I contemplated how many of them I could fit in the back of a U-Haul.

Quote

We're all leaving Innisfree after trivia.

C: "My car is far....That is rhymes."
C's roommate: "Um...do you need a ride home?"

The Days are Just Packed

I'm moving in 11 days, but I have a feeling that the day is going to creep up on me much faster than I think. Primarily because I am staying extraordinarily busy in these final days.

Last weekend I went home for the last time before the move. My sisters and I (minus Jessica) hung out, went bowling, and spent a lot of time going over how things are done in Boston. Such mind-bending questions as "How do they wash their cars in Boston?" and "Do people even wear shorts up there?" were answered. I'm pretty sure my younger sisters think I'm moving to a polar ice cap. It was a lot of fun though, despite the fact that it rained non-stop. We went to Chili's, ordered an ungodly amount of food, were all sitting there clutching our stomachs, and Bear ordered cake. "Bear, I don't think I'm going to be able to eat cake." "Then quit eating your food. Save room for cake! You've gotta have priorities." So, we ate until we were sick and then bowled until the wee hours of the morning. It was a blast. :) I mean, who wouldn't miss faces like these? (and who knew Bear's eyes could do that?) :

I got back to Birmingham on Sunday evening in time to hang out with C and P. We decided to go to dinner and then see Ratatouille. We had Japanese food, and let me tell you a little something about the seafood pasta at this particular restaurant. You might assume shrimp...maybe some scallops...perhaps a crab leg. But you would be wrong. P got her food, I looked over... "Um...is that a tentacle?" Her pasta was chock-full of squid-y goodness. Actually squid and octopi, because there were tiny squids, but there were also honest to God tentacles with little suction cups I kid you not. Luckily I'm a vegetarian, and quickly lumped octopus tentacles into the meat category. Blech. Of course, I guess it was better than octopus ice cream. Skip to 3:30 on this bad boy

Then we saw Ratatouille. If you haven't seen this movie, go now. See it on the big screen. Not only is it really well-written and adorable, it also has the most amazing animation ever. The wet fur, the singed fur, the dry fur...hell, see it for the fur. Also see it because it is like watching Food Network with rats. I totally love Food Network, but this movie definitely gives that channel something to aspire to. Giving the audience an appreciation for food and fresh ingredients, rather than giving the audience the quickest way to throw together preservative-laden foods (I'm talking to you, Sandra Lee. Put down the Cheez-Whiz! Also, you may want to think about AA.) was really refreshing. I am not a cook by any means, but I really enjoyed watching the culinary touches to this movie. Apparently Anthony Bourdain was an advisor and he later reviewed the movie talking about how much they got right about life in a restaurant kitchen. I'm a huge fan of Bourdain's books, so I appreciate that the movie aspired to authenticity along with absolutely nailing the animation and having a wonderful story to boot. Awesome movie for any age. Go go go see it now.

Then I went out again Monday night! I'm telling you, I haven't just laid down and vegged out on my couch for like a week. Which is probably healthy, but whatever. Last night we went to the Alabama Kick-Off party for Barack Obama's campaign. I don't know who I'll be voting for yet, but I thought I'd like to hear what he had to say, and if by some chance he wins, when will be the next time I'll get to say I saw the President in person?!? (Actually, that's already happened to me once. President Bush's motorcade drove 10 feet in front of me when I was in DC a few years ago, but I wouldn't categorize my reaction to that as "excited" by any means. Ugh.)

The whole kick-off thing was pretty low-key...it's hard to get a large group of Democrats together in Alabama. First some little 9 year old girl read a letter she'd written to Obama, and I guess it was cute. I didn't pay a lot of attention since I'd just gotten there and had found a couple of my friends in the audience. Then some Birmingham drum line performed. Poor kids performed and then stood there holding their drums for almost the entire event. They finally gave out in the last 15 minutes or so. Then Charles Barkley came out to introduce the guy who was going to introduce Obama. I hate when people do that. You know who we're here to see, we don't need a cavalcade of people leading up to the guy. Particularly Charles Barkley who I don't care for at all, but who is probably trying to ride some coattails to the Governor's office. Barkley introduced Artur Davis who is a Congressman representing Alabama's "Black Belt." Which is the most impoverished part of the state. It's pretty much the equivalent of a 3rd-world country down there. Pitiful. I've met Congressman Davis before when I helped plan a meeting with local leaders about HIV/AIDS in Alabama. I love Congressman Davis. He works really hard, he's sincere in what he does, he's extremely intelligent, and he's a genuinely nice guy. After Obama spoke, I realized that I wished Congressman Davis was running for President. He'd get my vote hands down.

Finally it was the moment everyone was waiting for. The drummers are drumming, and they introduce "The next President of the United States, Barack Obama!" He came out, thanked everyone that had preceded him, and began his speech. And I felt, well, not really disappointed because I don't think I had really high expectations. But, I expected more. He gave a really safe speech that I believe you probably would have seen from any of the Democratic candidates. Hope for the future, America wants change, we never should have gone to war, blah blah blah. He certainly didn't say anything I disagree with, but there were no revelations. I was promptly reminded following his speech that we are still 18 months out and that it's doubtful that the candidates want to show their hands this early in the race. That makes sense. I've read some articles by Obama's advisors on issues such as the healthcare crisis, and I've really liked what they've had to say. I think if these are the kinds of guys that have Obama's ear, he may be a really great candidate. I just think he's going to need to be a little more charismatic to gain the attention of the majority. There's plenty of race yet to be run, and I'm confident that he'll improve. My big fear is that Hilary Clinton, despite her qualifications, will be unable to win the election. I just don't think she can win. The Democratic nomination seems to be pretty much between her and Obama, so I'm rooting for Obama. I just want a Democratic candidate who can win. We'll see what happens though.

After Obama, we went to trivia night at Innisfree. As usual, our team didn't really know many of the answers and we just battled to stay afloat amidst the teams with 12 people. An even dozen really seems to be the key to full knowledge coverage. You get 12 people, there's always going to be at least one person with an inkling of what the stupid answer is. Next Monday is my last night at trivia. If you're in town, feel free to come and help fill the team out. We need warm bodies. And there's cold beer. You really can't beat that. :) Laters!

Why Everyone Needs a Blog

Coworker: "Speaking of food, we have to take a break from Rojo. Remember how we got lunch from there on Wednesday? I think I had a bad batch of chicken burrito. After you left the office, I got deathly ill. I felt *horrible* but I was on second call, so I couldn't leave. I sat in my office hunched over a trash can the rest of the day. I finally gave in at about 4:30. I went into the command center, told them I had to go home, and I left. Well, about halfway home, I realize I have to go to the bathroom. I mean *go* to the bathroom. But I think I can make it to the apartment. So, I am swiping my card at the gate, and I lose it. Needless to say, I didn't make it to the bathroom. And that's just the beginning. I get out of the car, completely covered in crap. It's all over my pants, my shoes, everything. Luckily, I'm in scrubs. I get into the apartment, get cleaned up and just decide to throw everything away. I'm too lazy to deal with it, plus it's disgusting. So, I throw my clothes, shoes, everything in a garbage bag, walk out to the dumpster, and throw it out. I get back to the apartment, lay down...and immediately realize that my wallet was in my pants pocket. And that my pants pocket is in the giant apartment complex dumpster. I am angry and sick and now I have to go dumpster diving. So, I walk out of the apartment and head toward the dumpster, and who stops me but that guy who's always outside working on his car. I see that guy all the time, never talks to me. Of course the day that I shit myself and throw my wallet in the dumpster, he wants to share his life story. Sam, I'm serious, he talked to me for 30 minutes. I know everything about him. I finally tell him that I have to go dumpster diving, and HE WANTS TO HELP ME. I didn't really feel like sharing my saga with a total stranger, so I just told him I accidentally threw away my wallet. But I'm having to convince him not to hop in the dumpster with me because I would be totally mortified if this guy climbs in and sees what I'm looking for. I finally talked him out of it."
Me: "Did you actually jump into our dumpster? It's like a 5 foot drop from the platform onto God knows what."
Coworker: "Well, I figured the worst thing I could land on would be a bag of human excrement, and since that's what I was looking for anyway, it would be fine. I found it pretty quickly. Then I had to jump up, grab the rim of the dumpster and claw my way out of there. It was pretty much the worst day of my life."
Me: "You really need a blog."

Experts Realize They Have Too Much Time on their Hands

Experts Diagnose Harry Potter With 'Probable Migraine'

Highlights include:
...Sheftell's team scrutinized all of J.K. Rowling's published Harry Potter books, looking for references to Potter's headaches. (Really? We needed a team for this?)
...After considering several headache diagnoses, Sheftell's team settled on the diagnosis of "probable migraine." (Because you wouldn't want to commit to an incorrect diagnosis of a literary character.)
...Is their diagnosis correct? The researchers note that migraines may be passed down genetically, but little is known about Potter's birth parents. (Sweet baby Jesus the kid talks to snakes and flies around on a broomstick. Also, he's not real. Augh.)

Listen, I'm as excited about the last Harry Potter book as the next fanatic, but get a grip people.

CB Radio

This whole moving thing is starting to get to me. I've moved a million times, and I've pretty much gotten it down to an art form. I have boxes that I've repacked so many times, I'm starting to question the wisdom of reusing them again...even if they are that product's original box. The problem is that I am accustomed to local moves. Dad comes up in his Chevy Astro van, I drive my pick-up and in two trips, I am moved. Not so much when you're moving 2000 miles. Two trips becomes a little less feasible.

So, I've rented a Penske truck to drive up to Boston. I probably only need a 12' truck for my stuff (I try not to accumulate too much crap, and what I have accumulated I just cleaned out last week) but I've decided to tow my pickup truck behind the moving truck. Which means that I have to rent a 16' truck because that is what you need to pull something behind you I guess. Meaning that I'll be driving a 16' truck, that is towing another 12' behind it? I'm not that great at distances, but I'd say before it's said and done I'm driving a 30' convoy through the country. Which I had kind of resigned myself to. It'll be fine, it's all interstate, it's all good.

Then yesterday my moving truck packet came in the mail. It included unfathomable instructions for attaching the trailer to the truck, a DVD that shows you how to attach the trailer to the truck (apparently I'm not the only one who didn't understand anything in the brochure), and some rules of the road for driving a freaking semi. One of those rules? Stopping at weigh stations. Huh?? I don't know what to do at a weigh station. And it's not like I'm driving one of the *giant* moving trucks. It's a small one. And it won't even be full since I really don't have that much stuff. So I called the truck place and asked them how serious they were about that part of the booklet. Answer? Pretty damn serious.

"Well, since 9/11 the contents of trucks has been under pretty strict observation. You'll pull into the weigh station, they'll see you're a household move, and 9 times out of 10, they'll just wave you through. You could just drive past the weigh station, but if you do that and get caught there's a pretty heavy fine."

Awesome. So, I'm going to be one step away from a bona fide trucker in about 30 days. Which just leaves me with one question. Where can I score a CB radio?

Letters

It's been a while and I don't really have much going on, so I thought I'd catch up on my correspondence. Here we go.
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Dear USAA,
I am planning a cross-country move to a state with regulations out the wazoo. I called you to check on how my car insurance will be affected. You transferred me to the nicest person on the planet, who seemed to be more excited about my move than I was. Does she get a cut of my premiums or something? Because she can have some. She was awesome. I got a quote, I got my insurance changed over effective the date of my move, I got the forms I'll need to register my car, and I even got my renter's insurance switched over. I will not have to make any calls when I get there. Done. And that is fabulous.

According to your website, you've been "Ranked #1 in Customer Service." I think this is the first time I've read something like that and actually believed it. If your office was not in Texas, I would bake you cookies. Such is my love.

Seriously. Love.
Samantha
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Dear Apartment,
I know we've had our ups and downs, and today is no different. Only a month ago I was dreading the loss of you. Your spacious floorplan, your double sinks, your walk-in-for-days closet, and God bless you your 1.5 baths. But then I found new apartment. And I fell in love with it. Not just love. Loooooove. Because it is beautiful. And because hopefully at my new apartment I will not come home to notes stuck in my doorjamb reading:

Dear Resident:

A crime has been perpetrated in our complex. It is our understanding that those responsible have not been identified or apprehended. If you see a crime being committed, please call the police. And then please call our complex office and leave a message. You are responsible for your own safety, and local law enforcement is responsible for aiding in that safety.

Thank you,

Your crappy new management team

First of all, thank you for letting me know that something has happened. It is comforting to know that a mystery crime has been perpetrated and that we have no idea who did it. Phew. What a load off my mind. Seriously, WTF? Was somebody murdered (again)?? Was someone robbed at gunpoint? Is someone having oral sex? (Illegal in Alabama.) Is someone placing squirrels down their pants for the purpose of gambling?? I NEED DETAILS! I leave this complex at all hours of the night. If there's a friendly neighborhood carjacker waiting for me at the gate, I might like to know. Also, is it just me, or does it sound like we're being accused of the crime? I feel as though the letter is less "be safe" and more "admit what you've done, you thugs."

Regardless, you are not making me happy right now. Also, the water constantly being broken is starting to get on my nerves. The whole "they're fixing a leak right now, you're water will be back in two hours" excuse is wearing thin. Pipes shouldn't pop new leaks every two weeks. Also, 2 hours is 120 minutes. Not 3 days. If the pipes have disintegrated, it might be time for new ones. Just a suggestion. Although perhaps you might first catch the squirrel pants gambler. Gotta have priorities.

Sincerely,

Sam

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Dear New Girls at Work,

Thank God we hired you. You're both nurses, you're both intelligent, and you both have made me laugh so much my face hurts. I'm so glad we've finally found some people that may actually be able to do this job without killing anyone or giving the other coordinators ulcers. Already you've picked up more than the last idiot we hired who's been with us six months. You're already asking for your nicknames since we've given everyone in the office unfortunate alter egos. You're hoping you don't end up with a name like the last girl, unfortunately nicknamed "The Big Hurt" because that's what it feels like when you have to work with her all night. Or talk to her for any length of time whatsoever.

Also, a special thank you to the new girl who has already passed out in the OR. Way to pull the heat off of me. At least I was under the influence of chemicals. You just passed slam out on the floor for no reason. Also, way to recover and suck it up. You stuck it out even though you probably suffered a concussion and two days later your ankle still isn't looking that hot. I will say that you are lucky in that the surgeons didn't notice your floor dive. Waking up to your friend the other trainee coordinator and a nurse or two beats the pants off of waking up to a roomful of surgeons. Now we can tease you about your glucose tablets and suing us for workman's comp. It's good times.

Finally, when I leave I get to pawn off my horrible office duty on someone. I promise not to do that to either of you. I like you way too much for that. Although I will use it as a bargaining chip every day until I leave to get you to do my bidding. Eventually you will know me better though and realize the only option I ever even considered. Of course I'm giving this crap to The Big Hurt.

Thanks for being awesome,

Sam