How To Feel A Little Glamorous When You Are Fat, Frumpy and Poor

I'm enduring one of those periods of my education when I just feel like I have completely let myself go. I work long hours, such that I barely see the light of day. I wear scrubs daily that are the color of dead flesh. I can't fit into much else because I am too tired to get off my fat arse once I finally finish work. I can't afford a good hairdresser...

Ah! But wait! There may be hope for that little quandry! All it takes is a box of hair dye, a bottle of nailpolish, a nice little facial treatment, and a really cool sister to make it all feel better!

Thanks Amy, for the most funnest pampering this Super-frump has had in months!!! And thank you, Jeff, for keeping the testosterone at bay while we indulged a little!
Here's the kind of stuff that was going on downstairs in "Man Land." Nathan and Hayden were more than happy to read books to Caleb about boogers and farts. They are even showing him how to find his boogers. Aren't they sweet?

~~~~~
And now here is a chance to help my awesome sister and her tremendously awesome family...

Many of you know that Amy's son, Caleb, has Ulrich's Muscular Dystrophy. It is a rare type of degenerative disease. They are currently raising money for the MDA to go towards research and support for Ulrich's. Click here if you want to help... Even just a little. Last year, my dental school class raised almost $1000, and they were living off student loans! Maybe you could spare a few bucks, too. And feel free to link to the MDA website! The more, the merrier!

If you want a little more motivation, click here.

What Can One Say When One Hears Such Sounds, Except..."PLEASE PASS THE EXCEDRIN!"

As I approached the school with Hayden, I couldn't help but flinch at the noise so profoundly noticeable two blocks from the auditorium. Hayden and I had arrived at an elementary school for his audition to participate in a community choir and band/orchestra that will be performing in a couple of months. We made our way to the table to sign in, our conversation with the attendant sounding something like this as we talked over the "music" emanating from the adjoining multi-purpose room:

"We're here to check in for the choir audition."

[straining to hear]"WHAT?"

"We are here for the CHOIR AUDITION!"

"NAME?"

" HAYDEN VAN CLEAVE"

"JADEN?"

[With as much enunciation I could muster] "HAY-DEN... with an 'H!'"

"Oh! Here you are! Take this paperwork and head into that room over there!" [points to the right and winces as her head turns in the direction of the sound causing our conversation to be so inaudible]

"WHAT?!"

"TAKE THIS AND GO IN THERE!!!"

[audibly gasping as I am pointed in the direction of all the noise] "IN THERE?!? WHERE THAT CACOPHONY OF SOUND IS COMING FROM?!?"

"Yup!"

As I entered the high-ceilinged room, bedecked by basketball hoops and the California flag, I refrained from plugging my ears so as not to hurt the feelings of those from whom the sound originated. The noise was absolutely deafening. All around the periphery, anxious elementary aged "musicians" practiced their craft. I tried to steer clear of the string instruments as they warmed up their bows, oblivious to the innocent bystanders that risked getting too close to the part of their instrument that could easily poke out an eye. Honking in the corner, a collection of clarinet players eeked out an undecipherable tune. Competing to be heard, a saxophonist blared "Yankee Doodle" at the other end of the hall. Not to be outdone, the cellist that had nearly impaled me upon my entry, started up with "Turkey in the Straw" as two seats down sat an undeterred trumpeter doing his best imitation of "Ode to Joy." Here and there and everywhere, squeaks and squawks of woodwinds and screeches and scratches of strings were echoing from the rafters, all trying to compete for airspace.

Meanwhile my quiet, shy young man sat nervously in his chair, too timid to practice his "instrument" in the chaos. After 20 minutes of waiting silently, he was called to perform for the judges in a nearby classroom, insulated from the auditory insult I would get to enjoy for the next half an hour by myself.

Oh, how I admire the patience of the parents of those budding musicians. I don't know that I could, in good conscience, inflict the sound of a dying animal on my neighbors as my child practiced his newly developing talent. Nor do I think the blasted instrument would survive my intolerance for more than a week or two.

Did Yo Yo Ma ever sound like that? Dizzy Gillespie? Kenny G? ...Okay, Kenny G still sounds like that to me, but you get the idea...

Next week, Hayden will find out if the fruits of his labor will amount to a place in the choir. If not, then surely he'll jump to the next box ...perhaps a little deafer than when he began this experience (see Wayne's post to figure out what the heck I'm talking about.)

By Royal Decree

Apparently, King Wayneman thinks I'm slacking. He has decreed that I post something.


"It's been too long since your last post," he says.

"My mom will worry, and call, and leave frantic messages on your phone because you haven't blogged in a while," he says.

"You'll lose your fan base," he says.


Well, the fact of the matter is, I'm tired... and uninspired... and grungy. I have been trapped in an anesthesia rotation, waking up every morning at 5:15 for the past 2 weeks, wearing blue paper bonnets and booties in a room that feels like the arctic circle, putting in I.V.s, and intubating people before they get eye surgery...And then they go to sleep, and I sit there watching monitors go "beep. beep. beep." and hope that they don't stop their incessant beeping, because then things are going to get exciting, which is NOT what you want during anesthesia. It's all for the sake of learning, folks. But let's just say, I'm very happy I chose dentistry instead of medicine (and more specifically: anesthesiology).

So "fan base," pardon my lack of enthusiasm. I still have two more weeks of this ahead of me, and I feel like doing an angry dance!


Wouldn't it be great to be that cool? As it is, I would look a lot more like this guy, but wearing scrubs, a blue bonnet, and paper booties.

What are the Chances?

Let's talk probability here...

What are the chances that Jack Bauer of Fox TV's "24" fame would EVER be able to save the world? It's one of my favorite shows, and I'm sure I'll get sucked in for another nail biting seventh season, but I have some problems swallowing a few of the logistical details involved in a show that is supposed to kick terrorist butt in real time.

Seasons 1-6 have a cadence that typically plays out like this. Bear in mind, every character is shouting these lines:

"Jack! You are so rogue! Thank you for saving our bureaucratic butts again by doing something so NOT by the book!"

"Agent Sharp! THERE'S NO TIME! It's 5:00 pm and I have to get to the Port of Los Angeles from our downtown headquarters by 5:22 or a nuke-u-lar bomb is going to explode in one of the 20,000 containers being stored there! I'll take the SUV, while you head to Beverly Hills in the chopper to protect the President from the assassin that is plotting to take him out at the gala this evening! Hurry! You only have five minutes!"

[End scene with a *beep* *boop* *beep* and the layout of various vantage points of relevant characters would include a shot of the president in his tuxedo at the gala in one box, somebody sinister checking out the site on his sniper rifle in another box, Jack Bauer rushing into a black armored vehicle, and somebody arabic-looking shutting a massive shipping container holding a nuclear war head with 22 minutes on the clock.]

...And then there would be a bunch of fighting, and a bunch of bad guys would get their butts kicked, but in the end Jack would save the day, and the President would be just peachy. And everybody would finally learn how to pronounce nuclear properly...Whew!!! That was close!

---

Here's how I think it would really play out, again with a lot of shouting...

"Jack! How come we keep letting you back in here? Weren't you arrested, like, 12 times by our agency last year?"

"Agent Sharp! THERE'S NO TIME!!! I need to pee really bad! I've been trying to escape terrorists for the last 6 hours with no bathroom breaks, and I finally escaped when I bit through one of their necks and he bled out... Come to think of it, I sure hope the terrorist I bit didn't have AIDS or Hepatitis or anything...

[Jack trails off in thought and then shudders visibly]

"Plus, I'm dying of thirst because I haven't had any thing to eat or drink since yesterday, so I thought I'd stop at a 7-11 and pick something up on the way to the Port of Los Angeles to deactivate the nuke that's about to go off in 20 minutes! So you can see... THERE IS NO TIME!"

"Jack, do you really think you can get through traffic in 20 minutes during rush hour? Seriously?!? And then, once you get there, you have to rifle through about 20,000 containers that all look the same! Not to mention, with the government cut backs, we don't have enough in the budget for the fuel costs of maintaining all the SUV's and helicopters, so we only have the Smart Car! You'll have to take that! The bathroom is down the hall to the left, but you have to jiggle the handle a little, or the water keeps running!"

[End scene with the *beep* *boop* *beep* as Jack does the pee pee dance down the hall, the arabic looking bad guy is licking mustard out of his grizzly looking beard as he shuts the shipping container, the President is assuring the First Lady that, "No. That gown doesn't make your butt look big," and the sniper is singing "99 bottles of beer on the wall..." as he waits for the sniping.]

After the commercial break, all of Los Angeles gets nuked. The End.

---

Here's what's coming this season...




Great. Looks like I'll lose another 24 hours of my life watching that!

A Very Verbose Verbal Scrapbook

Well, the holidays came and went...

Mirth was all around me...

Laughter filled the air...

And went completely undocumented!

We had such a great Christmas time, but in all the chaos and glee, I never brought out the camera. So I will have to create a mental picture of our holidays (I got this idea from Diana, who apparently had the same problem I did in not thinking to photograph any of the goings-on... However, she has pregnant brain, and I do not have such an excuse.)

Beware! You may need to take a bathroom break somewhere in the middle here... Your kids may be in college by the time you read through all of my yammering on. This post is really not for the faint of heart: Only the truly devoted among you.
Picture #1: December 24, A Quiet Christmas Eve Involving Crabs, Luke Skywalker, and Anti-Semitic Statements
The pictures of this night would include a delicious crab dinner, which became a tradition a few years ago, when we found that local Dungeness Crab was a decidedly great alternative to the turkey and ham that we had eaten so recently at Thanksgiving. We all sat about the table, crunching our little crustaceans while making Yummy noises intermittently.

Later, the nativity was read from the scriptures, where we laid out the wooden figures representing the major "characters" in the story. One of the wisemen was missing from the set, however, and a Luke Skywalker action figure was the understudy for a time, until it was decided that his bare chested attire was far too risque for the Baby Jesus... So we only had the wisemen that brought the gold and frankincense. "You can keep the myrrh."

After that, we went looking for Christmas lights in the fancy neighborhood that decorated so festively for Halloween, but found it to be quite dark. Nathan's explanation? "There must be a lot of Jewish people in this neighborhood." So, we headed back to the land of Gentiles, looking for some good ol' WASP festiveness and ended up at the L.A. temple to take in the sights there. When we came back home, we watched the Polar Express and drank our traditional recipe for Royal Hot Chocolate at the appropriate part of the movie. By then, it was nearing midnight, so "Santa's helpers" got to take turns assisting in the Christmas Eve duties: Elf-Hayden stuffed the stockings, and Elf-Nathan placed the loot under the tree... And neither of them was a cotton-headed Ninnymuggins.

Picture #2: December 25, Christmas Day with Elephants and Butt Snipers and Torture Pudding.
The boys wake up as soon as the sun peaks out, raid their stockings as quietly as two little elephants can be... At least they sound like elephants at 6:30 am. They graciously enjoyed the limited number of presents under tree as though they were winners of the jackpot at Cesar's Palace. Hayden shot everybody in the butt with his Nerf rifle at least once throughout the day. That evening, we were joined by my sister and her family, my Mom and Chuck, and my cousin Scott and his family. Much more delicious food was consumed in mass quantities (including Yorkshire pudding...or "Torture Pudding" as per the boys... that dripped on the bottom of the stove and filled the apartment with smoke), and we ended the evening by singing Christmas carols, which Caleb seemed okay with as long as they didn't sound sad. Silent Night was apparently much too much for him, but Jingle Bells was A-Okay.

Picture #3: December 27, Wayne's Family's Ginormous Gathering of Relatives We Haven't Seen in a Long Time.
We travelled to Ramona in San Diego County for our first glimpse of the Holgersons from North Carolina, and the Sortors from Utah. This is no small feat, as the Holgerson Horde consists of eight people which DROVE all the way across the country: Mom (Wayne's sister Gina), Dad (Sanders), and their six children... All six of which have undergone major growth spurts of late, and all of whom LOVE to point out how short our family is. We prepped the boys, warning them that the cousins loved to tease, and to be prepared to become the butt of a number of short jokes. Lo and behold, within 2 seconds (I am SOOOOO not exaggerating!) of entering Aunt Rita and Uncle Buck's home, four of the kids blurted out such comments at MY expense. The boys went unscathed, but I counted about 67 other related comments about my diminutive size throughout the evening. Despite the festivities including over 40 people (20-something kids under the age of sixteen), it was absolutely, positively WONDERFUL to get everyone in the same room.

Picture #4: December 28, Murder at Angie's House and the Fluoride Incident of '08
For this event, I am almost glad there is no photographic evidence. It is amazing to me how a group of Wayne and I, his cousin Kelly and Carlton, and his squeaky-clean Mormon sisters and their spouses can start out an evening so well behaved, and watch it degenerate into something the FCC might ban from television. Let's just say, no protected class went untouched in our very un-P.C.-humor, Chubby's dance would have made a porn-star blush... and all the while Lynne kept 12 kids at bay in the party room across the street.

When the children returned, and the evening wound down, I offered to give Brooklyn a fluoride varnish treatment. "Mmmmm. Cherry flavored," I professed as I demonstrated on myself. Now this is the part where I learned why so many people choose not to treat family in their dental practices, as the fun and games quickly devolved into a screaming tantrum of epic proportions, and I watched as my sweet little niece tried to make herself throw up once the varnish had been applied. As Andy patiently put her to bed, he asked her if she understood what the "tooth vitamins were meant to do. "It KILLS you!" was her anguished response. And, as her concerned little sister offered a bedtime prayer on her behalf, Avery said, "...and please bless Brookie that her teeth won't fall out tonight." Thankfully, nobody died, and all her teeth were still there in the morning, and I even got a kiss from the fully fluoridated niece that loathed my very existence the night before.

Picture # I don't know. I've lost count...Hayden Aids in Burglarizing His First House:
Are you really still there?!? This is taking a lot longer than I thought... Good on you if you are still reading this.

Rather than drive back to L.A. county each night after each successive family gathering, we were graciously put up by Angie's next door neighbors, who had allowed us to stay in their vacant home while they were vacationing in New York. Our only warning issued by Angie: "Just don't lock the front door, as they don't have a key to open it. ONLY lock the security screen!" Easy enough? Well, it seems in my haste to pack up and urgently return that morning so I could take any emergency dental calls that could occur... Or maybe I was just a little too eager to chow on Angie's cinnamon rolls for breakfast... But I apparently slammed the front door a little too hard. The doorknob lock was such that if jostled even slightly, would keep the door locked... and again: THERE WAS NO KEY... And my purse was inside.

Thankfully, Andy has super long monkey arms, and was able to reach up through a 6-inch cat door to unlock the garage door on the side of the house, and then Hayden was able to crawl into the house through a larger dog-sized door through the laundry room to retrieve my purse. Who ever said crime doesn't pay?

Last Picture, I PROMISE! and I don't even remember what day of the week it was: Girly Day With Sparkly Vampires and The Reason I Finally Broke Down to Read the Twilight Books (see Nathan's opinion of my literary choices here)
Gina, Kelly, and I finally got a chance to do what we do best: Gossip, giggle, talk incessantly, eat, watch kissing movies, and muse about how it's so much fun to be best friends with family. It's been a long time since I've been able to enjoy estrogen, and this time we did it in style! We went to Beverly Hills to watch Twilight, couldn't find the theater, ate at Cheesecake Factory (which we learned was akin to McDonald's in an area as posh as Beverly Drive) where Kelly almost broke her foot and spent her entire meal getting groped by a touchy-feely waiter who was trying to flirt to get a better tip, saw Norm McDonald of SNL fame (well, Kelly did... I was distracted by sparkly things in the windows), drove back to my place, watched a kissing movie, went to another theater I knew how to find to watch another kissing movie with sparkly vampires, and went our separate ways for who-knows-how-long-until-we-all-get-together-again.

THE END

Well, hang on... I should add that New Year's was totally uneventful, and consisted of Wayne and I rolling over in bed at 11:59 as the drunk people at a nearby nightclub counted down raucously... and then promptly rolling back over and falling asleep soundly.

We're quite the party animals.

Husband Tag

Angie, my sister in law and amazing cinnamon roll baker extraordinaire, gave me this tag to complete all about the Wayneman. When first tagged, he stipulated that I was only to post it after he had a chance to review it first.

Pshsht. Right. He should know me better than that!

So after I refused to do it under such conditions, he promptly changed his tactics by saying in his best sarcasm, "If you don't do it, then you don't love me enough." Well, Wayno, since you put it that way... Here ya go!

Wayne's 5 favorite things that he loves:
1. His devoted and loyal eternal companion... The X-box 360.
2. His OTHER wife... Me.
3. Da Boys.
4. Goth-sounding Vampire club music (BTW, the picture is photoshopped... His music is freakish, but I assure you there is no one LESS freakish than Wayne.)
5. Arrested Development, The Office, and Flight of the Conchords


5 things on his to-do list:
(Now, I'm not sure how to answer this one, because I have a list for him to-do... and then HE has a list to-do... And ne'er the twain shall meet. So we'll go with HIS list.)
1. Get the exploding dishwasher fixed
2. Fix the horribly temperamental television
3. Help the boys with their homework
4. Move out of L.A. the second my residency is over
5. Watch Flight of the Conchords with me tonight.

5 snacks he loves:
1. Whole wheat bagels with light cream cheese
2. Mountain Dew
3. Peanut butter and JAM sandwiches (never jelly)
4. Whatever somebody didn't get around to eating and is saving for the perfect moment of edible satisfaction
5. Anything that I have fixed for myself (It's really kind of crazy how ANYTHING I have going into my mouth suddenly becomes an insatiable craving for him... scrambled eggs, popcorn, water...).

5 facts you may not know:
1. Did research during undergrad to determine if smell affected taste perception and fed a bunch of unsuspecting college students baby food.
2. Was born with funky little thumb on his left hand that we call his "fumb" or "monkey paw." When I first met him, I thought it was a little toe attached to his palm. (Picture to the left shows Wayne's fumb next to his starfish-soulmate's fumb at Sea World.)
3. Was completely set up for psychological trauma by his mother, who called him "Weeworthy" and "Pervival" and "Peevis" as a child. Somehow he managed to recover.
4. Has an amazing ability to draw people, particularly men. I am always in awe when he draws some ridiculously good looking dude with chiseled abs and stunning features.
5. Has a picture of himself that looks kind of like this one on his passport (Wayne is on the right), despite the First Presidency's admonition to have a "missionary haircut" displayed on said passport to go on his mission to Japan.

5 places he has lived:
1. Hawaii
2. Carlsbad, CA
3. Cobb Mountain, CA
4. Various places in Japan
5. Santa Monica, CA (much to his chagrin)



5 quirky things about him:
1. Loves obscure sports (by the American standard) like Soccer, Hockey, Lacrosse... Dodgeball maybe?
2. Smacks his food like a basset hound when he eats. He says this is because he has such luscious lips and they (his lips) can't help it.
3. Channels his late father's demeanor whenever he is in L.A. traffic...
and all that that implies.
4. Works really hard at creating the perfect avatar for his blog. Consequently, I found about 30 pictures of him from the angle of his strikingly handsome chin one day, and I realized he had taken them all himself.
5. Reads a plethora of information from books, magazines, online, etc. and is a veritable encyclopedia of history and sports, but cannot, no matter how hard he tries, finish a book.

I sure love that quirky man of mine!!!!


5 people I tag:
1. Amy
2. Christine
3. Tracy
4. Christina
5. Annette

My Christmas Break Decompression Strategy

I wish I had really interesting pictures to upload that could accurately depict our holidays. But alas and alak: I didn't take very many. I was too busy reveling with my peeps. We had a wonderful time visiting with LOTS of family. I will have to fill you in later in another post... but for now, I wish to brag about some truly amazing feats of wonder. Yay me!
Let me start off by saying this was the first break of much consequence that I have had since Spring of dental school last year. It was loooooong overdue. My brain has been scholastically baked for the better part of eight months without much of a reprieve. So let me preface the listing of my major accomplishments of late by warning you that when you hear them, you are going to be amazed at what a dork I truly am...

Or maybe not. Maybe I'm not hiding it as well as I think I am.

So here it goes... My major accomplishments: First, I finally got into the Twilight series. Much to the chagrin of all the boys in my household (who call the series "Twi-wipe" and are horribly bitter that the sixth Harry Potter movie was preempted by the bloodsucker movie), I have been plowing through vampire love stories like there's no tomorrow... Two books in four days. To be honest, I think Bella is a STUPID, STUPID girl, and I hate, HATE, H-A-T-E that she thinks her stalker/boyfriend is romantic by sneaking into her bedroom and watching her sleep... Oh yah, and he wants to EAT her!!!! (BIG red flag in my book)... but I feel strangely compelled to finish the series. I guess my girly-girl instincts are peeking through, despite my testosterone-rich home environment. Either that, or the OCD in me simply dictates that I finish what I started. Whatever the cause, I need to get my hands on the last two books, and SOON!

But to be clear, my Man-Brain (as Wayne calls it), was not to be outdone. To counterbalance the estrogen-fest in my literary choices over the break, I blew up aliens for an entire night. That's right folks. I guess I missed pulling all-nighters studying about the carnage of oral surgery and root canals, so I stayed up until 6:30 AM enjoying carnage of a different sort by playing Halo 3... Oh, and did I mention that I beat it on two levels? Yah. I'm a masterful Master Chief.

...And I'm a total nerd.