It’s Oscar time! That might mean fashion and movies to you, but to me, it gives me an excuse to express my secret hobby: puns.

Every year when movies first start getting buzz, my subconscious starts thinking of food puns for a hypothetical Oscar party. Not that I ever have one planned – I don’t think I know the right crowd for that. We had a party one year and a guy fell. asleep. How can you fall asleep over Frosted Nixon Brownies, Hotdog Millionaires, and.. Milk?
Regardless, I can’t not think of puns– I have no control over it. In the shower, while trying to sleep, stopped at a red light:
(or a Blue Valentine/True Grit combo: Blue Grits),

Some others: The Kids are all Rice, Rabbit Donut Holes, some type of food that’s something inside something inside something.
Is anyone else a secret pun creator? (There’s got to be a support group, right?) Got any good ones for my hypothetical Oscar party?
Also, if you are part of my crowd, and think an Oscar party might actually be fun, not snoozeworthy, let me know and maybe we can plan something.

warning: gag-worthy post

I hear a lot of unsolicited disgusting tidbits: I’ve listened to Y talk about draining abscesses. I’ve heard accounts of getting hit in the face with placenta, I’ve heard about every color and texture of discharge you can imagine. I’ve accidentally touched dried blood spatters on Y’s white coat. Hell, I have held a cadaver’s testicle. I thought I was unbreakable(for a layperson).

But something has finally grossed me out to the point of gagging: a teratoma. It’s, as far as my unscientific brain can understand, a tumor that contains “mature elements” such as teeth or hair. Or, in extremely rare cases, LIMBS.

Scholarly Ike says: I would probably eat most of the things you’ve mentioned thus far.

A tumor full of hair and teeth? I’m gagging as I write this. Because of my extensive knowledge of classical Greek, I know that the word teratoma means roughly “monstrous tumor”. That sounds about right.

I’m interested to know: If you have a spouse, parent, sibling, best friend in the medical field – what story/condition/bodily fluid sent you over the edge?

P.S. Since I know at least one of you that reads this is a knitter… don’t even think about this: http://www.theanticraft.com/archive/samhain06/teratoma.htm

just our typical Sunday

A little mischief:

Sidenote: how sad does our little kitchen look? I’m repeating this mantra for the next year and a half. And then I’ll probably keep repeating it for the next 3-4 years when we rent another house.

A little light reading:

Correction: I was doing a little light reading. I thought Y was too, until I looked over and noticed The Longest Word Ever:

What about you guys? Did anyone else learn anything good on Wikipedia this weekend?

long distance romance

It seems like when everyone I know wants to feel better about their lives,they watch Teen Mom. I apparently read WWII novels. Seriously, I’ve read 4 in the past month or so, all randomly recommended to me by different people.

One of the best things about these books is reading the correspondence between the people at war and their lovahs. Of course, since these are novels, all the letters are well-written and inspiring and tear-jerking and all kinds of other nauseating things. But I imagine the real letters from the past — and not just between wartime spouses, but between anyone separated by distance — were just as beautiful.

I began to wonder* how future generations would describe such correspondence between couples in 2010. At the time I was reading these books, Y was preparing to leave for part of his OB-GYN rotation, which was across the state (dramatic, much? It was two hours away). I, being stuck in WWII-Novel-Land, expected romantic and pining messages — even if they were via text.

So, future generations, when a 2010 medical student leaves his wife and pitbull mix behind for 2 weeks to train, THESE are the pining gestures (I want you to read that as if Ryan Seacrest is saying “THIS is American Idol”):

“If you were here, you should have said hi!”

Okay Y, maybe our bathroom does occasionally look like this when I change the toilet paper roll:

But can’t a girl get a little absence makes the heart grow fonder every once in awhile?

*Two Carrie Bradshaw references in one post? I am awesome.

an old fashioned shih tzu with boobs and a spare tire

check out those sideburns….

I was named after my grandmother. Since my grandmother is, well, my grandmother, she happens to have a slightly old fashioned name.


I get a variety of reactions when I tell people my real name. A stammered “Well, uh, at least it’s not… Bertha? [or some other not-so-desired name]” is common. So is, “Oh what a wonderful, Biblical name!” (I am in the south).

I bring this up because of a recent reaction I got at the dermatologist’s office. “Is Esther a family name?” the nurse asked. I nodded, expecting reaction B, the biblical reply.

The nurse smiled and shook her head sadly. “I kept trying to get [the dermatologist] to name his little shih tzu Esther. She just looks like an Esther!”

Google Esther and you’ll find… {well, this sentence was supposed to continue with “pictures of old ladies in rocking chairs” — because that’s what I think when I hear the name, and Google is usually on my side with these things — but apparently Google images thinks “boobs” when it hears Esther. So scratch that. }

What I’m trying to say is that I’ve kind of spent my whole life feeling like I don’t fit into the mold my name created for me. And due to some permanent scarring from elementary and middle school, I hear imaginary giggles every time my name is called at the DMV, the doctor’s office, or the first day of school. Also, Wanda Sykes recently told Ellen that she named her spare tire Esther. Because what better name for both a shih tzu AND a fat roll than Esther?!

I rarely miss an instance of my name trying to squeeze through the cracks and become hip again. (Madonna tried her best in 2004). And given all that I’ve been through, all the hardships I’ve faced on the first day of school when I’ve turned bright red and muttered “Everyone calls me D”, shouldn’t I take every opportunity to embrace my given name? Even when — no, especially when — it comes in the form of a $200+ purse?

a good knee day

I had 4 things on my to-do list today, and I did all of them. First time that’s ever happened. Is it too soon to announce that I’ve succeeded in my life-long resolution to be more organized? No? Good.

I’d like to thank my team of planning products. I couldn’t have done it without them.

I’m having so much trouble finding this online that I feel like I must have dreamed it. It’s a Knock Knock daily to-do list that has a daily quote about self involvement, a place for “notes for your memoir”, and — as seen above — “the greatest thing I said today”, complete with a blog worthiness rating. [Note that I did nothing blog-worthy today.] There’s also a section where I can check off my best body part of the day. Today I checked knees. Not only did I achieve my life’s resolution, but it was a good knee day.

In case I fall off the wagon, do you have any tips to stay organized? If you couldn’t tell, I work best with pretty paper products.