Latest and the Greatest

I've been receiving a lot of questions about my Mom lately, so I thought I would take the chance to fill everyone in. Mom is currently scheduled for surgery to remove her esophageal cyst on Thursday, June 26. It will require her to be in the hospital for about 2 days (hopefully no more than that), and they are going to be doing a mid-line abdominal incision.

I am trying really hard to not be nervous about this and to think that everything will end up fine. As I am 90% sure it will be. It's just that other 10% that makes me worry. At least Bill will be here with us.

As for her heart, her surgeon ordered a stress test for her to make sure her heart would be ok during the operation, and she passed with flying colors. So her heart seems to be doing fine.

But then Tim Russert died of a heart attack at the age of 58. Only a few years older than Mom. And all of a sudden we are confronted with her mortality again. And I'm not ashamed to admit, it's freaked me out a little. I just wish the surgery and the aftermath was all over and then I wouldn't have to worry about it.

PLUS, I have my first doctor's appointment in more years than I care to admit tomorrow. And that makes me nervous about myself. I mean, with my recent family history (including my Aunt's thyroid cancer--she's fine btw), it's scary to think that something might be wrong. But, if it is, I know it's better to find out. And I am sure it will be ok. I am the picture of health. *snort*

Anyway, that's where things stand. Basically, I am trying to not let myself freak out about the next couple weeks. Let's see how successful I am!

Color Splash!

UPDATE: Purple it is in a landslide, 7 to nothing. Thanks, everyone!

Ok, time to get some fashion advice from my friends. I have picked out the dress I want to get for when I go on my fabulous Mediterranean cruise with Chris and Kent in September (!!!), but I need help on picking out which color. Here are the options:

Purple

Or green

I really like them both. Purple is my favorite color, but green used to be my favorite. Also, I am a redhead, so green would be the classic choice. But the purple would look hot with my pasty, hopefully non-sunburned skin. Since both are jewel tones, I think they would both look great, but I just can't decide! Also, both come with the little black bolero that the green one is shown with, so don't let influence your decision. Leave a comment/email/IM me with your vote!

PS: I literally just cheered because I spelled Mediterranean right on the first try. Booya!

Picture > 1000 Words

I stumbled across these pictures online the other day, and just felt the need to share them. I'm not going to include any commentary, I don't think the pictures need it.


Here is a lone Jewish woman resisting Israeli security forces in the West Bank. It won the Pulitzer Prize for Oded Balilty.



This year's Pulitzer runner-up was taken by Mahmud Hams of Agence France-Presse. It shows an Israeli rocket about to land on Palestinian villagers in a refugee camp in the Gaza Strip.



A man walks on a street strewn with bullet casings in Monrovia (the capital of Liberia). Carolyn Cole won the Pulitzer prize in 2004 with a set of pictures including this one.


If you want to see some more Pulitzer pictures, go here. But be warned. Some of them will break your heart, and I'm not kidding.

Ocean City Beach Memoirs

So it's taken me an entire month to get these pictures up and blog about my beach adventures. Suck it up, people. Good stuff is worth waiting for, right?

The story begins several months ago with a series of Friday nights when Doug and I were at our friend Erika's house playing a little Dance, Dance, Revolution. As you do. Erika often has us over for such get-togethers and we all hang out and have fun. And dance, dance! Erika is the mother of an adorable 1.5 year old boy (Brandon). And when cute kids are around, fun will be had!

One day this winter, Carly and I, in our conspiratorial fashion, were chatting about fun things we could do with Erika and Brandon. I mentioned that my friend and former realtor Gloria owns a condo in Ocean City right on the boardwalk and the beach. And would two of us thought, wouldn't it be fun to take Erika and Brandon there? So I sent an email around and received an instant response from Erika that she would love to go and that Brandon had never been to the beach. So the plan was in motion and we were off to the beach come May!

Finally, the day arrived, and after spending 5 or so hours in traffic (grrrr) we arrived at the condo and settled in for a weekend of relaxation. Walking down the boardwalk, watching movies (Doug had never seen The Princess Bride, can you imagine?) playing miniature golf, eating white cheese popcorn (more addictive than heroin), it was a weekend of fun and frolic that was over too quickly.

I know what you're thinking. Less talk, more pictures. Ok, fine. Enjoy!

I hate to say it, but I think Brandon rocks my sunglasses better than I ever could.

Erika and Brandon!

Hey, putting a shirt on is harder than it looks.

Storytime! 5 bucks says it's Baby Beluga.

Kite store!

The carnival at the end of the boardwalk.

Brandon and Erika jam to the boardwalk musicians.

Hey, you would tired too if you walked 5 miles down the boardwalk!

Doug engages in a little kite-flying.

Carly and me on the beach.

When playing mini-golf, if the ball doesn't go where you want, just see if mama will let you toss it in. Works for me.

Watch out for the dinosaurs on the course.

Group shot!

Seriously, how cute is this kid?

Let's give it another 15 years before we start driving, ok, Brandon?

In the meantime, skeeball is always a good idea.

Why you gotta stomp the sand castles, Carly? Why?

Car Goes Boom

The bad news: I had an unfortunate run-in with a pillar in a parking garage.

The good news: I got a sweet-ass rental car out of the deal. 2007 Corolla, baby!

So here is the story. Two weeks ago, post-bookclub, I was preparing to drive my Mom back to her place. (Side note: yes, my mom and I are in a bookclub. In fact, I started the bookclub with the express purpose of getting my mom out of the house more and out into society. Bear in mind this was PHA (pre-heart attack)). So we were in the car, in the new parking garage that is built behind my favorite restaurant (Faccia Luna) and the new, very cool, coffeehouse where the bookclub meeting was held.

Picture me and mom in the car. Now picture me trying to convince her to go to Trader Joe's. And her giving me many valid reasons why she doesn't want to go. And then me forgetting there is a pillar on the immediate right side of my car, turning the wheel too far, and scraping against it. Boo.

Therefore, the car (MY car, that I LOVE), is in the shop for a week and half and I get to drive a kickass rental car. But now! My car is fixed! Huzzah!

Insurance quote of the week:

Insurance Agent: "So is there any damage to your car?"
Me: "Yes, there is a scrape and a dent."
Insurance Agent: "And is the pillar ok?"
Me:"...."

It's Not a Tumah

Actually, it really isn't a tumor. Yay!

As you probably know, for the past several months, I have been walking with the big C word in my head. As in cancer. As in, my mom might have. While the doctor who performed her first endoscopy at the beginning of this month told us that the mass in her stomach/esophagus looked "completely benign," there were no assurances until we got the biopsy results from a deeper biopsy back.

Well, that endoscopy/biopsy/sonogram was yesterday at Fairfax Hospital. It was conducted by the head of the gastroenterology department ( as my mom put it, "I'm clearly a VIP"). After poking the mass with a needle and seeing fluid come out (eeeew), the doctor determined that it was an esophageal cyst, since tumors are not filled with pus. TMI, I know, but come on, it's good news.

A biopsy was taken, and I guess I should really wait to celebrate until I know those results for sure, but this is very good news, everyone! The doctor said that since it's not a tumor, there were no plans to operate and they would just check up on the cyst every 1-2 years. Woot!

Sgt. Pepper vs. Revolver

As I embark on an epic rewatch of The Beatles Anthology, I got to wondering. Where do I come down on the age-old Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band vs. Revolver debate? Which one is actually better? For a long time, it seemed that most people came down on the Sgt. Pepper side, declaring it not only the best of The Beatles' albums, but one of the best rock albums of all time. But Revolver has recently been gaining in popularity and status. So, what better way to determine this then a song by song match-up?

Taxman vs. Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band

While Taxman marks the beginning of George Harrison really making a hefty contribution to The Beatles catalogue, he comes off as kind of whiny. I'm so sorry that you have to give some of your millions to The Man, George, but seriously. We all hate paying taxes, blah blah blah. It does have a pretty kickin beat though. But Sgt Pepper is just....classic. From the fade-in on the audience, to Paul doing his gravely voice thing he does so well to the awesome random french horn quartet in the middle.

Winner: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. Nothing beats the french horn, dude.


Eleanor Rigby vs. With a Little Help From My Friends

Argh! A really tricky match-up, and we are only on the second song. Eleanor Rigby, with its haunting melody, depressing lyrics, and amazing string accompaniment is one of the songs you turn on when the day is dreary and you want to feel better about your own crappy life. But With a Little Help From My Friends is the song you get drunk to and sing along with your buds (like in Across the Universe). Also, this is pretty much the perfect song for Ringo (I mean, Billy Shears) other than Yellow Submarine. But more on that later.

Winner: Eleanor Rigby. If this was the Joe Crocker verison of With a Little Help...it might take it, but for the blending of classical and rock sensibilities, you gotta give it to Eleanor.


I'm Only Sleeping vs Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds

I'm a big fan of I'm Only Sleeping. Who doesn't want to just lie in bed all day and bitch at people who make noise? Also, it features George Harrison playing his guitar solo backwards and forwards. Not that I knew that until Wikipedia told me. Whatever. But Lucy...to me, it's like Willy Wonka, you know? It describes this amazing candyland and whether it's an acid trip or based on a drawing by Julian, it doesn't really matter. The tamboura and organ give it this off-kilter feeling, as do the key and meter changes. But underneath it all, Lucy is basically a nursery rhyme.

Winner: Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds


Love You To vs. Getting Better

Confession: I am a sucker for a good sitar. I got my friend Julie at work (who is Indian) to make me a copy of this awesome CD she has with dudes singing in Arabic with sitar and hip-hop beats. And Love You To has a really great beat and, hello, sitar. But the actual melody and song = meh. Whereas Getting Better is one of those Beatles songs that I am convinced are part of our cultural memory, that we know coming out of the womb, and that I didn't even know was a Beatles song until I was like 15. But then, I think it was also used in a Target commercial which kind of takes away from the mystique.

Winner: Getting Better. It's classic, you can't fight it.


Here, There, and Everywhere vs. Fixing a Hole

Here, There, and Everywhere is a classic romantic song. And Paul's voice is so delicate. But Fixing a Hole is quirky in that Sgt. Pepper fashion, and it's also an ode to marijuana. Woo? And it's just so damn catchy!

Winner: Here, There, and Everywhere. Who am I to argue with Paul McCartney and George Martin who both say it is one of their favorite songs.


Yellow Submarine vs. She's Loving Home

She's Leaving Home is classic McCartney. Sweeping melody, lovely cello in the background, sung about loss and heartache. But Yellow Submarine is....come on, Yellow Submarine! It was required in my elementary school music class that we learn this song. You have not lived until you have heard a classroom full of 10 year olds singing this son. And he lived beneath the waves, in a yellow submarine...

Winner: Yellow Submarine. Sorry, Paul. In this case, quirk and cute beats lovely.


She Said She Said vs. Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite

Hmm. Tough. She Said She Said has this insidious power of getting into my head and not leaving. Even sitting here just THINKING about the song is enough to lodge it into my cranium where it will probably remain for the rest of the weekend. Gotta love that syncopation. Mr. Kite is pretty much the quintessential Sgt. Pepper song, where on the surface it makes no sense, but when you look deeper...it still makes no sense. But, hey! It was written when John Lennon saw a circus poster, and that's cool, right? See how craaazy John Lennon is??

Winner: She Said She Said. Sorry, Mr. Kite.


Good Day Sunshine vs. Within You Without You

Winner: Good Day Sunshine. Come on. No summer day is complete without it. Within You Without You = yawn.


And Your Bird Can Sing vs. When I'm Sixty-Four

Oh, man. How am I supposed to decide? The harmonies in Bird rock my world. And the call and answer style is so fun to sign along with. But When I'm Sixty-Four is so great. It's cute, yes, but it also makes you want to love someone that way. Where you will take care of them even when they are old and slow and wrinkly. And it features clarinets, which is like, unheard of in a rock song. AND according to Wikipedia, it was one of the first songs Paul McCartney wrote; it was written when he was only 16.

Winner: When I'm Sixty-Four. It's probably one of my favorite songs of all time, and the great thing is, it appeals to all age-groups. Old people like it, because it's about them, and young people like it because it's awesome.


For No One vs. Lovely Rita

Nobody can appreciate a song about a meter maid as much as me, because I am the type who gets unrequited crushes on UPS guys, strangers on the bus, the grocery store bagging guy...you know, people who you see in these tiny little portions of their life. But For No One gets in your head, not in the catchy pop way, but in the "OMG this song is following me around and trying to tell me something about life."

Winner: For No One. You can get the same vibe as Rita from Lady Madonna. But there's not really another tragic tale like For No One. I mean, Eleanor Rigby is depressing (see above discussion), but For No One is about once-happy lives falling apart. That's rough. And important.


Doctor Robert vs. Good Morning Good Morning

I'm kinda ambivalent on both of these. Doctor Robert is fun I guess, and Good Morning is interesting, but *shrug*

Winner: Doctor Robert. It's just a better rock song. And those "good mornings" get really annoying.


I Want to Tell You vs. Sgt. Pepper (reprise)

You go, George Harrison! I Want to Tell You is cool. It's almost like...it's a long piece of taffy that stretches out and gets better and better. Does that make sense? It has a meandering, but not directionless sound, and while it gets wordy, the piano pounding in the background drives it forward. Sgt Pepper in the reprise is cool, starting in a new key and modulating back to the original (I love modulation!), but we've heard it before.

Winner: I Want to Tell You.


Got to Get You into My Life vs. A Day in the Life

Ooooh. Tricky. Ok, so A Day in the Life has that awesome orchestral chord and crescendo smack in the middle. And I love the little snippet of Paul's song ("woke up, got out of bed, ran a comb across my head..." This song is so progressive and so different than what other people were doing. It is one of the most famous Beatles songs and is probably one of Lennon's most powerful works. Got to Get You into My Life has the horns and the hints of motown. And the sparse instrumentation at the refrain. Sometimes simple is better. But I don't think it is this time.

Winner: A Day in the Life. It's just...the Beatles, you know? It's THEM. It encapsulates everything they stood for.

And bonus point for Revolver: Tomorrow Never Knows. Because there isn't anything else on Sgt. Pepper to compare it to.

Final tally: Revolver = 9 points, Sgt. Pepper = 4.

Ok, so I guess I Revolver is better. Alert the media, folks!

The Big Lebows...er, The Big Disappointment

I really like the Arlington Cinema and Drafthouse. But after waiting 2.5 hours for the Dudefest to start (special showing of The Big Lebowski!) and the power blows 15 minutes into the movie, I really hated the Arlington Cinema and Drafthouse.

Especially considering the management's response was "we are rescheduling for 2 weeks from now and you have to let us know RIGHT NOW if you need a refund or you won't get one and you have to wait another hour for us to run all your food and drink bills by hand."

Whatever.

So Doug, Tony, Tito and I are having our own Dudefest this Saturday. Which will be better because:

1) Tito's sound system rocks my world,

2) We will have a cook-out first,

3) With cupcakes for dessert,

4) We can lie around in our bathrobes, The Dude style.

Fuck it, Dude. Let's go bowling.

Another day, another engagement. Yay for Joe and Caroline! I think September 2009 sounds like a lovely time for a wedding.

You know, I never thought I would be married by the time I was 30, but I am beginning to feel like the odd man out. At brunch on Sunday with my law school friends, I had a total Bridget Jones moment:

Me: Can we please have separate checks?
Waitress: Sure, how should I split them?
Caroline and Joe: We're together.
Lori and Todd: We're together.
Moe and Brian: We're together.
Me: I'm alone.
Waitress: So, together, together, together, alone.
Me: *sigh*

And it's not like I want to be married right now. Ick. But I guess it's nice to have someone else like you.

But anyway, this is a time of celebration! So, congrats to Caroline and Joe!


Wedding Watch:

Andrea and Justin, November 2008

Lori and Todd, May 2009

Caroline and Joe, September 2008

Who will be next??

Learnin the Lingo

Now that I am well into my late 20s (how did THAT happen?), it's important for me to try to keep up with what the kids are doing/saying/watching these days. I really don't want to become a fuddy-duddy. Although, I feel like using the term fuddy-duddy is in itself evidence that I am a big fuddy-duddy.

I've seen High School Musical and High School Musical 2, I've watched Hannah Montana, I've read the Twilight Saga, so I'm not exactly hopelessly out of date. And it seems the latest craze is internet focused and is called "rickrolling."

Haven't heard of it? Allow me to demonstrate:

OMG you gusys!!!!111!!! Here is the latest Hannah Montana video!! LOL!

And then you click on the link, and see Rick Astley and his slammin dance moves from the video for "Never Gonna Give You Up." The irony is that the people with whom this prank is most popular, were not alive or even a twinkle in their father's eye, when this song came out. But it's still wacky and weird and kinda awesome.

Here is the urban dictionary definition of rickrolled:

rickroll
	To post a misleading link with a subject that promises to be exciting or interesting, e.g. "World of Starcraft in-game footage!" or "Paris Hilton blows Busta Rhymes' dick" but actually turns out to be the video for Rick Astley's debut single, "Never Gonna Give You Up". A variant on the duckroll. Allegedly hilarious.

It's the "allegedly hilarious" that makes it art. Also Paris Hilton?? Ew.

Oh, and here's a link to an interview with Rick himself. I swear that's a real link btw.

Yeah, I'm a yuppie alright.

This article prompted the following conversation between Caroline and myself on google chat, with the inevitable conclusion that I am a yuppie. You didn't think I spent time working at work did you?

caroline: hee! That link cracks me up dude

me: me too. white people love farmer's markets!

caroline: and 80's nights!

me: and I was just saying I needed to go to the old town one soon and get some fresh fruits/veggies. I love 80s nights!

caroline: hahaha. i know!

me: but I don't think I make enough money to be a true yuppie

caroline: i don't know dude. you do own a condo.

me: hmmm. true. but! it's only like 800 sq.ft.

OMG

am I a yuppie??

caroline: it's possible that you are

me: but my cell phone is totally ghetto

and my tv is 5 years old

and my computer is held together with duct tape

I am on the verge

eeep!

caroline: HAHAHA

caroline: i think the duct tape kills it

you're safe

me: whew

caroline: for now

hee

me: what about you? you love Apple

caroline: yeah, i know. but i share a two-br apartment with two other people and two cats

i don't think that's very yuppie

although i do have a pretty new phone

and i live in the suburbs

for the moment

eek!

me: even worse. you live in ARLINGTON

caroline: dude, you live in the suburbs too

me: but, dude. Clarendon?

yuppie central

case in point, Mike lived there

caroline: but, okay, you have a point. moe even calls it "yuppieville"

me: we are probably tied

caroline: i suspect you're right

me: we both get some yuppie points deducted for being government workers

caroline: woot!

me: so now I have to put this conversation on my blog

which probably proves that I am, in fact, a yuppie

caroline: ...yes, i suspect it does

me: well, I am sure as hell taking you with me

caroline: HAHAHA

I said YUPPIE.

That's more like it.

Actually, I think the biggest clue that we are both yuppies is how many times we both say, "dude." I never really noticed it before now.

Satire or just bad taste? You decide

Gene Weingarten from The Washington Post spent a lot of time today in his online chat talking about this article. It was written by a college student and was intended to be a scathing satire on the subject of racism at his school (think Jonathan Swift and the Irish eating their babies).

Apparently, a lot of people didn't get the joke. The author was forced to apologize and to attend "racial sensitivity" classes, and was suspended from his college newspaper. Which I find, frankly, ridiculous.

Don't get me wrong, it's not the best example of satire. The story in the beginning about the Asian kid at the racquetball court was confusing, and I don't really see how it fits into the article as a whole. But it was clear (to me at least) from the very beginning that it was meant to be funny. And I laughed out loud a couple times, especially when the butterfly nets were broke out.

But you know what? It was clearly a joke. And the fact that the kid was punished for writing is completely wrong. Satire is supposed to be irreverent, it's supposed to be upsetting, it's supposed to make you THINK about the TRUTH the author is reaching around (pun intended).

In fact, from dictionary.com:

Satire: the use of irony, sarcasm, ridicule, or the like, in exposing, denouncing, or deriding vice, folly, etc.

So, seriously Boulder, Colorado? Are you really that sensitive?

File this one under lame.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Although the unofficial moto for today is, "everyone is Irish on St. Patrick's Day," I take delight in the fact that I am actually Irish. Go, me! But I do expect everyone to wear green or be pinched. I even threatened my judge with pinching. And in a delightful bonus, he promised not to file a sexual harassment claim!

I knew today would go well when on the Metro this morning I saw two (count 'em, two!) hot red-headed boys. Yay! And then the mechanic called me and told me my car was an easy fix and would NOT cost me thousands of dollars as I had feared all day yesterday.

Tonight the Riley clan (that is, my non-Jewish relatives) are indulging in a good-old fashioned Irish supper with corn beef, cabbage, potatoes, and soda bread. You can take the immigrant out of Ireland, but you can't take the potatoes out of the immigrant. Or something along those lines.

In the spirit of St. Pat's, check out this article from The Washington Post about red-heads. Very gripping stuff. I have to say, my red hair never made my feel like an outsider. I was never really teased about it or anything. There were SO MANY other things for children to tormet me about, I guess the hair thing never really came up.

And here's a website devoted to Irish jokes (warning: some are quite lame). Here is my fav:

--An Englishman, an Irishman and a Scotsman were reading a newspaper article about which nationalities' brains were for sale for transplant purposes. An Irishman's or a Scotsman's brain could be bought for £500 but an Englishman's brain cost £10,000. That proves,' said The Englishman, 'that Englishmen are much cleverer than Irishmen or Scotsmen.'
'No it doesn't,' said The Irishman, 'it just means that an Englishman's brain has never been used.'

AHHHHH MOTHERLAND!

Currently Watching: The Amazing Mrs. Pritchard. Great BBC show!

Currently Reading: The Judas Strain, by James Rollins. Think Tom Clancy, but easier to follow and with more fuzzy science. It's all about a scientist secret agents! No, seriously, it is.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince preview!!!

Awesome.

Things we know:

1) Matt Lewis hot

2) the scene with Draco and Harry hiding in the train car will be in the film

3) Emma looks good with blonde hair

4) Poor Rupert is never going to live down macking with Lavender Brown

Ladies and gents, I bring you....the Gayest Songs Of All Time!

I won't ruin the surprise for you, but let's just say I don't disagree with the top 10.

Spring spelled backward is Gnirps!

I know that it's only the beginning of March, but it really feels like Spring is right around the corner. Most people love to wax philosophic about Spring; how it's a time of renewal, how much they love warm weather and tanning and skin cancer, and they love seeing the little trees bud, yadda yadda. Me? I don't like Spring. There. I said it.

It's just....it gets hot, ok? I don't like hot weather. I like layering clothes and wearing cute sweaters and boots and I really really REALLY hate sweating. Remember, this is DC. It's so humid here you can literally see makeup leaking off people's faces. It ain't pretty folks. And while I don't have allergies, when I go to my car and the pollen is so deep I have to use an ice scraper to get it off, something is not right.

The one thing I will begrudgingly give Spring is that it provides beautiful evenings. After being holed up in my windowless office all day, when I can come home, open all my windows, and enjoy a nice breeze it sure does feel good. And I SUPPOSE all the new plant growth means it smells nice outside. And there is something to be said for not freezing my butt off at 6:30 in the morning waiting for the bus. But I am NOT about to run outside and start singing songs about how great Spring is, or how cute little lambs are when they are born, or any of that other lame movie-musical Spring stuff. No siree. Not now, not ever.

Cherry blossoms are pretty too. Damn you, Spring!

Coming Back to Normality

First of all, Mom is doing great. Today she went to the bank and got her hair done. The doctor told her she can drive again, and while she's still tired, I think she likes the freedom of being able to go out and run some errands.

I went back to the office today, and tonight I'm back home in my condo. On one hand, it feels really good to be back at my own place, to sleep in my own bed, tidy up the place, and let's be honest, watch my shows; but on the other hand, I feel bad about leaving Mom by herself. Not because I'm worried something will happen to her, I think we're passed that point (knock on wood), but because I know she gets lonely and wanted me to stay. Last night she gave me the old, "I wish you would move back..." comment in a little pitiful voice. Which didn't make me feel great. I mean, I can't move back. I have my own home. But I have actually liked spending time with her these past weeks, I wish it could have been under better circumstances, but we've had fun hanging out. In the evenings, we curl up on her bed and watch Gilmore Girls (WHY have I not watched this show before???) and I have enjoyed taking care of her. In a lot of ways, this whole heart attack thing has brought us closer together.

In any event, I'm getting back to my normal schedule, but it doesn't help that I seem to have caught a pesky cold. Or at least the beginnings of one. Sore throat, fatigue, post-nasal drip, sneezing, all check. No cough yet, thank the lord, but it could be waiting just around the bend! Actually, after spending 9 days in the hospital, it's amazing I didn't catch pneumonia or anything. So I guess I shouldn't complain too much.

So that's the latest and the greatest, hopefully now the blog will return to its usual critique of the foibles of others.

Mom Quote of the Month:

Mom (to the technicians at the hospital as they prepared to move her for the cardiac catheterization): Why can't I just move myself onto the table?
Technician: Because you're having a heart attack, lady!!
Mom: Fair enough.

Hey, did you know that heart attacks really suck? No? Well, then pull up a chair and let me tell you all about it....

Yeah, so my Mom had a heart attack. Basically, on Saturday, Februrary 9 at 6:00 in the morning she woke up with severe chest pain. She called me, I took her to the Kaiser Emergency Care Center, they performed an EKG, and the doctor told me that they were calling 911 and taking her to Fairfax Hospital since her EKG was abnormal. Cue the freaking out.

Seriously. I don't think I have ever been so scared as when the Kaiser docs threw nitroglycerin and aspirin down her throat, all those EMT guys stormed in, strapped Mom to a gurney, and the ambulance pulled out. I met them at the hospital, and after waiting 30 minutes in the waiting room, they took me back to see Mom. We were told she was going to have a cardiac catheterization (which entails winding a wire through the femoral artery to the heart).

I sat for an hour alone in the cardiac waiting room, waiting. The doctor came out, told me everything had gone well, and informed me that Mom had a 100% blockage of one of the major arteries of her heart, and partial blockages of two other arteries. The complete blockage had been cleared and a stent had been placed in the artery.

After her procedure, Mom felt a lot better. At least for a few days. While still in the hospital she developed fluid in her lungs, which resulted in her blood not becoming oxyginated to a normal amount. The lungs are naturally lubricated, and one of the heart's jobs is to pump out the fluid. After the heart has been damaged in a heart attack, however, it cannot pump as strongly. So the fluid in the lungs was not being removed. Basically, Mom had to stay in the hospital an entire week, until Saturday, February 16.

Things seemed to be improving throughout the week Mom was at home, but starting Thursday, she began to experience pressure and slight pain in her lower chest. We took her back to the hospital on Saturday, February 23, and they admitted her. The good news is, nothing is wrong with her heart. Her EKG looked good, blood work showed that certain enzymes that are present during a cardiac event were normal, and a chest CT showed no pulmonary blood clots. The doctors determined that her problem was epigastric in nature and sent her home.

The only caveat is that a stomach CT showed a mass outside her stomach. We have no idea what this is, but the doctor said that its most likely benign, and it's probably just some kind of cyst that will be reabsorbed naturally. We're making an outpatient appointment for an endoscopy and/or upper GI for later this week.

While it's probably nothing, it's just scary. The words "mass" and "tumor," while medical and themselves merely descriptive, instantly make me worry. But there's really nothing that can be done or determined until more tests are run. So I think we aren't really going to think about it too much, and just let the doctors do their jobs. Mom's spirits are up, she's feeling better, and she's glad to be home.

The best part? I found ice cream with only 1 gram of fat and only 80 mg of sodium, so Mom can eat them. Because she would be willing to do anything the doctors tell her...except give up ice cream.

Awesome Birthday Part I

I am officially 28. I know, weird, huh? The claim that I am in my "mid-twenties" is now completely laughable. Actually, it was completely laughable a year ago, but that's not gonna stop me.

My friends and family, once again, came through and helped me celebrate an awesome birthday. Things started off on Friday when Caroline and Joe took me to see U2-3D. Let me just say this. I love U2. I don't care how old Bono gets, dude is hot and can still bring it. And this movie was the most AMAZING film I have ever seen. First of all, digital picture and sound. Second, IMAX. Third, it's 3D, motherfucker!! Bono...right in front of you. I could reach out and tune The Edge's guitar. Ah-mazing. I'm going again with Moe, because seriously. I'll never be able to replicate this kind of viewing experience again.

Saturday it was party time! Selvi came up from Charlottesville and made the cutest cupcakes (they spelled out happy birthday!!) and the usual suspects got together. I have taken the liberty of posting pictures:

Best cupcakes of all time!

Me and Carly

The triumpharate! Kristin, Mags, and the Selvster. Don't mess with the pie hoes.

Moe and Brian. Awwww.

Anne and Me, redhead power!

Andy, Tony, Me, Anne, and Jim

You can cram a lot of people into my condo.

More pics to come!

This just in! Maggie not as geeky as previously thought!

I don't really make that much of an effort to hide my nerdom. But according to The Onion's A.V. Club, and their list of obsessions even geekier than Monty Python, I would say I come in somewhere around the middle.

I am well-acquainted with the tv-related geekdoms (no surprise), but can safely say that I have managed to avoid the nerd activities that spill into the real world. Just in case you were wondering here is how I rank on The Onion's guide to geekiness:

Likes

Star Trek

Battlestar Galactica (but only the new series, I have some standards)

Joss Whedon

The Simpsons

Doctor Who


Not Likes

Renaissance Faires

Fantasy Sports Leagues

Michael Jackson

Wikipedia (as a resource, yes, as a hobby, no)

Rocky Horror Picture Show

Media specific role-playing

Frank Zappa

Magic: The Gathering

World of Warcraft

Game-show trading

Anime

Cosplay

Live-action role playing

Second Life/Myspace/Facebook

Fanfic


As you can see, one list is clearly longer than the other. For the first time, I fall towards the normal side of the geek spectrum!

And the villagers rejoiced!