Doogie Howser

I have always had big plans for my life.  When I was eight, I read about Oxford University in England and decided that I would go to college there.  I told one of my parents' friends that, and they were like, "Oh, Mississippi.  That's a great school."  I was insulted, but instead of correcting him, I just smiled and nodded.  One of my biggest inspirations as a child, was Doogie Howser, M.D.  Sixteen and a doctor, what a hunk.  I knew that 16 was a stretch, but I came up with a plan to get it done in only a few more years than that.  I would skip 4th, 6th, and 8th grades; go to 2 years of high school; finish college in 2 years; and then do 4 years of med school.  This would put me graduating from medical school at the age of 19.  Not quite as good as Douglas, but much more realistic.  When I got to skip the 4th grade, I thought I was on my way, but then the man got in my way.  I came to realize that you are not allowed to learn at your own pace in school or elect to cut out topics that are of no significance to your interests.  Despite all of my hard work, they held me down.  As the years have passed, I have come to see the value in taking your time in life (even though I still would have liked to skip some of that dumb stuff they made me learn, ie. whisker plots).  I think that if Doogie were still Doogie and not Barney Stinson, he would say to young me, "I may be the youngest doctor of all time, but I do not have as many friends or experiences as I could have had if I had a normal childhood."

I like your shoes, I like your shirt, I like your face

Compliments make me uncomfortable.  It is nice to be appreciated, and I like to know that people care about me.  But what do you say in return.  "Your shoes are so cool."  "Thanks they're my favorites."  I'm not big on giving compliments just because you get a compliment.  If I do not like the shirt you are wearing, I will not tell you I like it.  If I do like it, I will tell you.  Just because you tell me you like my shirt, I am not immediately obligated to like yours in return.  If I do like it, again I will tell you.  I do not tell people that there clothes are ugly, unless you are my mother or my boyfriend (sometimes they need guidance) or unless you specifically ask me what I think about it.  I just go by, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all."  Also, sometimes when people give me a compliment about something I've done, like getting into school or making a cool cake, I want to acknowledge the fact that the Lord is my source and my strength, but it always sounds disingenuous.  "We are so proud of you for getting into UAB."  "Well, I work hard, but the Lord has really blessed me.  He is definitely the reason I am here."  "Oh I know you've done a great job."  I want to say, "Please, allow me to be humble and attempt to give God the glory for the amazing things he has done for me.  Do not keep complimenting me after I just told you it was not me who did it!"  Anyways, just know that if you compliment me, I am genuinely thankful even if my response is awkward, and that if I compliment you, I really mean it.

We Deliver

At dear old Dean Road School, there were many organizations you could join.  It always made me mad that you had to be in fourth grade to join almost all of the clubs.  I told the teachers and my mom, "Just because I am a first grader doesn't mean I am any less important or responsible than the older kids."  Then I discovered We Deliver. This was where kids at school could mail letters to their friends in other classes.  Each class had a mailbox, and the mail would be picked up every afternoon and delivered the next morning.  They would let second graders be mail carriers. I was so excited and determined to be the best mail girl they had ever had.  I was so dedicated that the next year, in third grade, I ran for Post Master General and was selected. Yay. I was really looking forward to progressing the next year to be in the Safety Patrol which was only for fifth graders.  I tried to explain to the Safety Patrol lady that I would be in fifth grade next year, but she would not believe me because I was only in third grade.  I told her I was skipping fourth grade, but she would not listen.  I was so mad at her for not believing me that I refused to have the principal call and tell her that I was telling the truth.  Instead, I remained the Post Master General and ran the best We Deliver in the history of Dean Road Elementary School.  That'll show those teachers not to trust me.

Ants

I hate ants.  They are sneaky and scary.  When I was in 3rd grade, I was at a spend the night birthday party playing capture the flag.  I am much more stealthy than I seem, and pride myself on my capture the flag skills.  In order to infiltrate enemy territory unseen, I found it necessary to crawl on my belly across a ridge.  Not on my hands and knees, this would leave me exposed.  You have to sacrifice to be a winner.  As I was nearing cover I noticed something biting me.  I had crawled straight through a giant ant bed.  The stealth was lost.  I jumped up and ran inside to the shower.  Without taking my clothes off, I turned the water on full blast and shook around until they were all off of me.  I did not want to tell my friends parents, because I knew they would call my mom, and I might have to go home.  So my friend's big sister covered me in calamine lotion, and I continued to party all night long.  Since that day, ants have made me very nervous.  They are especially unnerving when they scatter or are found singly or in small groups.  A big group of ants in a line shows you where they are coming from, where they are going, and how many of them there are, so that you can target your attack against them.  If they scatter, you have no idea where they are going to end up, and if there are only a few of them you are always wondering when there will be more and how many friends they have.  It is scary, and I do not like them.  Just thinking about this makes me itchy.

Friends before Food

I can be unreasonably logical.  Sometimes, putting too much thought into things gets in my way.  Last night some friends were going to BOGO slice night at a pizza place here.  I wanted to go, but I was very torn.  I have a ton of food at my house that I need to eat before I go home for Easter.  I also don't like to spend money, even though my total bill on BOGO night is always under $5.  And, I intended to work on my paper last night that I am suppose to have done by today.  Some may say, "You have to eat anyway.  Why don't you just go?"  But when I eat at my house it takes me 30min, where as going out with my friends ends up taking about 2.5hrs of my evening.  I want to be fun and hang out with my friends, but all of the info presented here would result in the decision to stay home.  Can you feel the tension inside me? So, I called Tyler which is what I do when I can't make a decision.  Before I called him, I knew what he would say.  He would tell me to go and say that time with friends trumps all of my reasoning.  But I called, and he told me to go.  I started to explain all of my reasoning and only got to the amount of food in my fridge at home when he started to yell into the phone, "Friends Before Food, Friends Before Food, friend!  You go, Friends Before Food!"  So, I went.  It was fun, and now I have to write my paper.

Charging...

I am not good at electronics, but people tell me that you should not over charge things.  They say it makes the battery run out, and I like to take good care of my stuff.  So, this is how I charge my phone.  I keep my charger in my bedside table, but I do not leave my phone to charge through the night, because I know it will not take it that long.  I leave it in the drawer, because I do not like to have lots of cords to look at, because it makes me nervous.  I also don't want to leave the charger plugged in, because I read an article one time that said that, in America, most of the power that we use in our homes is "Ghost Power."  That's like the power that your t.v. pulls even when it's not on, just because it is plugged in.  I don't want to pay for something I am not using.  I also do not charge my phone everyday just because.  I wait until it's on at least yellow if not red, and then I charge it all the way up.  I know that all of this is really of little concern and importance, but I do not know how else I would do it if not this way.  Tyler rags me all the time about why my phone is not fully charged, but it is just too difficult to explain all of my well thought out yet crazy reasonings.  So, I tell him it's because I forgot to charge it, but that's not true.  I didn't charge it on purpose, because it simply was not time yet.  I think I need a synonym for "because."

Eggs in a Breadbasket

You are sitting at home, and you hear your stomach growl.  It is dinner time but what to have.  The cupboard is almost bare save for a loaf of bread, and you are tired of PB&J.  Nothing in the fridge except some orange juice and a couple of eggs left in the carton.  This is the perfect time to harken back to your childhood and those wonderful days when your mom would make breakfast for dinner.  Well, in my case I made breakfast for dinner, but it was made either way.  There is no better menu item in this scenario than Eggs in a Breadbasket.  Step 1: cut a circle out of the middle of a piece of bread & keep both pieces.  Step 2: put a little bit of butter on your hot skillet (even if it's non-stick, you can't have Eggs in a Breadbasket without a little bit of buttery goodness).  Step 3: place both pieces of your bread on the skillet.  Step 4: crack an egg in the center of the piece of bread with a whole in it.  Step 5: once the egg is cooked on one side flip the entire thing over to allow it to cook on the other side.  Step 6:  eat & enjoy.  The flavor is like buttered toast, meets eggs, meets french toast. You may want to eat it with a little salsa, jam, syrup, or apple butter.  When I make this I use my bread I make in my bread maker so I can cut it thick and put two eggs in the middle and cook them to just at medium, delicious.  Totally beats the Dean Road Elementary days of little smokies & pancakes.

circle THE correct answer

We got a new teacher last week that is cute and fun and innovative with her teaching style.  She has forsaken scantrons in favor of hand grading multiple choice questions.  Clearly this concept was overwhelming to me, because confusion soon ensued.  I listen most of the time in class and attempt to catch the most pertinent information while disregarding things that may or may not be useful to me.  Completely unrelated to this, in another class meeting, a teacher told us that our dental boards are adding multiple choice questions where we can choose as many answer choices as we think are correct, and to get the answer right we have to pick all and only the correct answers.  Anyway, test day.  I'm sitting there circling answers praying that God will help me remember everything, when it dawned on me.  She said some of the questions will have multiple answers.  I haven't circled more than one on any of these so far!  "Uh, ok, this number 17 looks like both of the enzyme sounding things could be right.  I will circle the two I was torn between in the first place.  Good job Abby, I bet no one else remembers her saying this.  Oo, number 25 looks like both of these could be good, I will circle A and C."  I was chatting with some people post-test and asked which ones they chose two answers for hoping they would likewise say 17 & 25.  But all I got were funny stares and "What are you talking about?"  Then I knew I was in trouble.  They quickly reminded me that she in fact said nothing to this effect, and that I may possibly be confusing her with our 40 something year old Dean of Academics who did mention something similar to the idea I had apparently created in my head.  I wonder how she will grade both my answers...I'm guessing Wrong.  P.S.  At the very top of the test it did say, "Circle the correct answer."  I read that multiple times and just figured she had bad grammar.

Sleepy Time

In talking to Tyler, that would be my boyfriend, on the phone last night I realized an oddity.  When I am sleepy, I am sleepy.  It is not like normal people that study, eat, dinner, wind down watching tv or reading then ease into rest.  I use all of my waking time, and then I go to sleep.  I study until I am tired, and then I immediately get into bed, close my eyes, and fall asleep.  My time is too precious to spend in this half sleep, half rest period where I'm not really getting anything done.  I would rather go to sleep as soon as I feel tired then wake up early and refreshed.  Anyone that knows me, knows that this sleepy time comes upon me quite suddenly and often earlier than most individuals my age.  Anywhere from 9pm to 11pm my eyes become heavier than my tarsal muscles can resist.  This time determines my waking time.  I typically wake up biologically about 8 hours after falling asleep.  My atypicalness does have some reasoning, but maybe only to me.

the Love begins

So, my mom played when she was little, but the only time I really played tennis was when she would send all three of us to tennis day camp for a week in the summertime so that she could do whatever she did.  Then in middle school there was this boy that was kind of my boyfriend, I don't know.  Anyways, his name was Johnny Pittari or John Joseph Pittari III, and he played on the tennis team.  I thought, "If Johnny can do that, surely I am perfectly capable." I started playing and realized how fantastic it is.  It is played the perfect time of year for the weather, not too hot or cold.  You can't be forced to play when it rains, because of slip danger. Almost anyone can play. You get to chat it up in the middle of play.  And, most importantly, the clothes.  As you may expect, my tennis skills are marginal, but I make mediocre look sassy on the courts.  I guess I write this mostly to say, "Thank you, John Joseph Pittari III.  Without you and my ever competitive spirit, I would not have found a sport that I look so good playing not so well."

Stackem' Up

I don't like my pillow to touch other stuff.  When I go somewhere that I have to bring my own pillow, I pack my pillow case in my luggage so that it is not exposed to the outside world like the rest of my pillow.  When people just put their pillow on the floor at the airport, I want to say to them, "That is where you put your face, and now it is on the ground." Each day, however, the pillows must be taken off the bed to make and un-make the bed.  This is a very stressful time because I must find a place for my pillow. When I take down the bed at night, I put the decorative, "non-critical," pillows on the ground. I stack on top of that the somewhat critical pillow that I use sometimes and that I keep for guests.  Lastly, I place my pillow on the top of the stack so that all it touches is the other pillow.  Once I have taken my sheets down, I replace the "critical" pillow and am ready for bed. In the morning, I do the whole process in reverse, and voila the bed is made and my pillow remains neat as a pin.

Hello Friends

I am now blogging.  People have told me that they would like to see my thoughts, so I bring them to you.  You will notice a lack of contractions in this blog, as well as, a unique style of story telling.  You may read about what I think in class, food that I cook, cakes that I bake, ponderings about my dog, things that make me laugh out loud while watching tv by myself, ie. Seinfeld quotes, and most importantly, the quite wanderings of my mind that take me much farther off topic than most people realize.  Yay, sounds like fun.  This, however can not get in the way of my studies.  Please don't expect this to be overly funny.  You asked for my thoughts, and I bring them to you.