Ok, I did it!

I just booked myself on a cruise, all alone, for my vacation! I'm a little scared, but super-excited. I've never been on a cruise before. Found this on Southwest's "travel deals" page. 5 night mexican cruise (cozumel etc) to/from new orleans. On Carnival. What a huge range of prices... From about $300 to >$1500 depending on the room, etc. And I had to pay a "single supplement" since I'm only one person in a 2-person room, but it was still fairly reasonable (or so I'm told by my cruise-veteran friends). I was hoping to spend an extra day in new orleans, but flights were too expensive and then I'd need an extra night of hotel, blah blah. But I'll have a few hours on either end, and the cruise ships dock downtown- maybe I'll have just enough time for some beignets at Cafe du Monde. Or maybe I can see if my old house is standing.

Yay!!

Let the countdown begin! T-14 days!

Ok, back to working on my presentation for tomorrow. Blah. I have been procrastinating for 3 days on it. And of course now I seem to be getting a cold and all I want to do is go to bed. :( But instead I'll stay up til 1 doing a shitty job on this powerpoint, and then have to take call tomorrow. But who cares! I'm going on vacation!!!!!!!

To call this all a tragedy is obviously an understatement. Looks like the kid was a senior, a Korean national, who had been treated for depression in the past. Seems like he left a note railing against "deceitful charlatans" and "rich kids".

But this coverage is what brought tears to my eyes- a professor, a holocaust survivor no less, used his body to block the door in an attempt to save his students. He was, of course, killed, but I guess did manage to save some people.

At least there are still SOME truly selfless people in the world...

Among the dead was a professor, Liviu Librescu. Students who were in Librescu's engineering class at Norris Hall told the Tribune late Monday that the professor tried to protect the students in his class when they realized a gunmen was loose in the building.

Alec Calhoun was in Librescu's solid mechanics engineering class when gunfire erupted in the room next door. He said Librescu, went to the door and pushed himself against it in case the shooter tried to come in.

Librescu, an Israeli, was born in Romania and was known internationally for his research in aeronautical engineering.

Heartbreaking. :(

Ok, I'm probably the only person in the world dorky enough to like this, but I just had to take my car in and saw this at the dealer and thought it was cute:




(and in case it's too small to read, it says 'does this sweater make me look fast?' And on the back it says 'unleash a MINI')

Ok, so last weekend, I had dinner at Trattoria Aroma with some people from work. And then my friend was going to meet me there for a drink. But he was totally late, and I was sitting at the bar, alone, for quite a while. (and then he went on to be a jerk anyway).

But so while I was waiting for him, I was checking out this guy at the end of the bar... he was pretty cute, clean cut, preppy- my kind of guy, sitting there with a friend having dinner and wine. They were conveniently sitting right under the TV, so I could check him out while pretending to watch hockey.

Later on I figured 'what the hell' and put a 'missed connection' message on Craigslist. I never expect these things to work, but figured what the hell. I wrote something about how he was there with a friend in a green sweater.

And then today, a week later, I get this message- Granted, it could be totally fake- I have no way to know he's not some random guy answering a random ad (I guess I should make him give me some identifying info, shouldn't I?)-

But in any case, the fact that I got a reply at all just blows my mind. And it's a pretty funny one at that-

We were, in fact, at Trattoria Aroma having dinner at the end of the bar that night. Here is the problem: My friend and I cannot figure out what we were wearing that night and are at each other's throats claiming the other was wearing the green sweater. I think he's full of shit. Either way, we have to meet, and considering you went through the trouble of initiating a misconnect, please suggest a situation that is most comfortable to you.

Sweet! I mean I don't know that I actually want to meet him or anything- I'm just amused that I got an answer.

and (e:mike), I'm with you. drama=fun. Some of the time, at least.

1: woohoo, my computer is fixed!

2: the gave me an estimate on my car- they're saying $150. No, I did not forget a zero. I would love it if they're right, but somehow I doubt it.

3: Cutest puppies ever! And I love that there's one named Wally.


4: I can't believe they fired Imus. Yes, what he said was wrong, but really. I think that's ridiculous.

Will try to keep this quick, b/c my food coma is about to knock me out- just had some yum italian at Trattoria Aroma.

But maybe my luck is changing a bit- I took my computer in to the Genius Bar at the Apple store in the Galleria today, and I was speeding as always, and got pulled over. Cop asked why I was in such a rush, and I said I had an appt (just didn't tell him how non-essential it was). But then he noticed my ECMC parking sticker, and asked if I work in the ER at all, and when I said yes, he just told me to "slow it down" and let me go. Woohoo! Then the apple store told me my hard drive is fucked, which is almost a relief b/c now they actually have to fix something, but (the best news of all)- it seems they'll be able to recover the data. Moral of the story: BACKUP, people! (and thanks for the superduper link, I'll check it out. Have been using the LaCie utility... SilverKeeper I think.)

But to end- my dad just sent me this essay my cousin wrote for a writing class she's taking, and it's about my sister's wedding. I thought the wedding was marvelous, but couldn't have written a whole essay about it. But somehow this brought tears to my eyes. I think it's well written, and thought I'd share.:

You began the evening in a church so breathtaking that you snuck back in after the ceremony to take pictures. Hundreds of years old, the grey stone chapel seemed to breath cool air and whisper "hush." The stained glass window scenes in colors so bold that the memory of them knocks you backward - blues plucked from the sky and sea, yellows plied from the sun itself, greens peeled from somewhere in a forest never touched by man and reds borrowed from the very blood they depicted. You feel as if you are stealing by taking pictures of beauty that, once taken from their proper context, will seem diluted and small. Still, you cannot stop yourself.


The wedding reception takes place in a club where moneyed members take great pride in its seclusion, its proximity to the ocean that supplies the majority of its menu night to night. The main hall, with its cavernous, wooden beamed ceiling, slate floors and gorgeous, linen draped tables twinkles from the combined effect of hundreds of tealights snugged into small round crystal goblets and strings of thousands of tiny white lights hung from the rafters. Guests spill out onto the lawn, a bluff overlooking the churning Atlantic. Salt spray from crashing waves coats your lips, and you taste the brine as you sip your wine. You stand near your husband, quiet and at peace as he drinks his scotch and looks out at the water. You are celebrating your tenth anniversary witnessing the union of a young cousin and her longtime boyfriend.


You don't know them well. You hope they are wise beyond their youth and know that they will need to love each other with faith and forgiveness and fervor. You hope they know that this evening is a rare and beautiful gift, but that the most memorable times will likely be much less elegant. You remember your own wedding, but much more clearly remember your own young husband running down a hospital hallway late at night, screaming for help because the blood and the baby started to come quickly and with terrifying ferocity. You vaguely remember repeating vows "for better or for worse," but remember with crystal clarity looking into his eyes, searching for understanding, when you learned of your mother's death. You remember that it was THEN that you knew you would be with him forever, that his sad blue eyes would be the ones you looked into for decades to come.


You dance after dinner. Your dress, made of navy blue silk so heavy and fine that its cool folds feel like water as they swish around your legs, fits you beautifully. You dance with abandon, wine coursing through you and the freedom of 2,000 miles distance from responsibility of caring for the children and the house leaving you giddy. You dance to the band as they play songs with thick,plonking base artfully woven in with the delicate pluck of guitar and warm, deep thrum of piano. You dance near cousins who taught you the art of skinny dipping in Lake Pocotopaug when you were 6. You yell above the din them that you want to go skinny dipping again, tonight, in the cold ocean with them. It has been 30 years and you want to play naked in the water more than anything tonight.


You and your husband leave the reception with your cousins and both of their husbands and drive to a beach. It is after midnight and fog has rolled in thick and wet. The three men seem incredulous and embarrassed that these three tipsy women cousins are so adamantly, energetically racing toward the water. You are yards from the water when you three stop and look at each other and then at the foreboding black water. Shaking, you giggle as you unzip your dresses and slip out of them. You all race to the water, slowing down only a bit as you wade into the frothy cold. You wade further until you lose your footing and you all three float. Sobered, your voices shake with chill and adrenalin. Your conversation turns oddly practical - how long will we stay in? What are the guys talking about? You decide to breaststroke back after a few minutes.


You emerge from the sea, three women, nude and empowered by your comfort and familiarity with the cold salty water. On land now, you feel awkward and acutely aware of the fact that your naked body, the body that felt so elegant in silk and so graceful in water is now going to be seen by men you barely know. You each scoop up your dresses and walk through the fog to the men. Each husband walks to his wife and stands at an angle to perhaps keep her from being seen by the other men. Your husband seems the most uncomfortable and a cousin rescues you both by offering his jacket to wrap up in. You are annoyed that your husband did not think to do it himself. The dreaminess of the evening is beginning to fade.


You drive to your hotel and shower, hoping that a good dry cleaning will take the salt stains from your silk dress. In the morning, your aunt calls to make sure no one was arrested, you all have a laugh at the impetuous late night stunt.


Later that day, you board a flight home and replay the whole evening in your head. It was glorious in its perfection and imperfection alike.


You wonder if the young couple will remember their wedding night with the same clarity and passion that you remember it with.

So ever since I became a tivo convert, a good five years ago, I can't really stand to watch tv "the regular way". Which may make me a snob, but it's probably a good thing. I never just turn the tv on "for background noise" nor do I just flip channels and start watching. Which is good, because if I DO do that, I get sucked in. All of the sudden I've watched 4 hours of TLC/Discovery/Animal Planet/stupid game shows and I don't even know it.

But this morning I got home from work, and went to watch The Riches, which I tivo'd last night, but right as I turned it on, 'Rumor has it...' was coming on HBO, and, of course, I got sucked in. It's an ok romantic comedy based on the premise that The Graduate was a true story- and features Kevin Costner as Dustin Hoffman, who sleeps with grandmother/mother/daughter of the same family. It did have a cute daddy-daughter moment that made me cry, too.

But my take home messages:

1: I think Jennifer Aniston is just about the hottest thing ever.

2: Shiny black old-school convertible mercedes' with old tan leather interior are damn sexy cars.

That is all.
Time for me to do something more productive with my afternoon.
As you were. :)

So I started the home stretch of this work-year yesterday - I'm at Suburban until the end of June.

And much to my dismay, I have no cell reception in about 99% of the hospital. And the internet is super restricted. I can't check my mail or anything.
Ack! I think I'm going into withdrawal. This could suck.

But so I'm sorry I missed your call imk. Would've loved to get drunk with you but I was working.

And uncut- you and everyone else are free to talk about me as much as you want. Yvonne was pretty much right- I just hate feeling like I hurt people, so I keep apologizing. I'm just assuming that people are way sick of hearing about it by now so I'm trying to shut up- but that doesn't mean anyone else has to.

Now it's time for a nap...
Then to try to fix my car, and now my computer. Again. 1 month old, and the hard drive seems fried again. Except this time it has more than 2 days worth of data on it, and sadly I hadn't backed up yet [was on my to-do list, some good that does me...], and I really can't afford to lose everything (again), but I'm afraid I'm going to. Last time I was nice. This time I am going to march up to Apple and make a stink. I shouldn't have the HD on a new computer fail twice in a month or two.

Grr.

Dearest peeps-
I would like for this to all just be over, but I feel the need to respond, hopefully for the last time.

Ok, yes, I was harsh and deserve some of what I got, and I accept that. But I hope it is apparent that I was just pissed about the weather, and venting, in MY JOURNAL. And I KNOW I am not the only one who has had those feelings now and again. I was exaggerating and overreacting, sure. Of course I do not HATE Buffalo. I think where you live, and your happiness there, is largely what you make of it, and is largely determined by the people you surround yourself with. And I have met a lot of great people here, largely in part to this site. And I think our hometown will always hold a special place in our hearts, no matter what others think.

Yes, Buffalo has a lot of good things about it. But it is not perfect- nowhere is. And I still maintain that the demographic does not really favor the young professional. And the length of the winter stinks. Even if it doesn't snow every day for seven months, the fact that you have to reasonably expect it might, is a bit hard to handle at times.

To respond to the comment roundup- no, I did not have a gun to my head when I signed on the dotted line. However it was the only option available to me to continue my career. Sure, I could have abandoned medicine altogether and not moved.

"Your statement implies that the only reason ANYONE would love Buffalo is because he or she is a stupid ignorant hick who has never lived in a "real" city or even knows what one is."

I am sorry if you inferred that from my statement- that is not what I was trying to imply. I am not calling people hicks for liking Buffalo. I apologize for my statement and can see why people were offended.
I won't define what I think makes a "real" city- but I think we can all agree that Buffalo is not NYC, or LA, or Chicago. Nor is it backwoods redneck-land.

And finally, is an emotional outburst about not being happy about where I live as bad as this personal attack: "you expressed a certain level of ignorance and stupidity that would make you virtually indistinguishable from the Long Island morons"? I may be a lot of things, but I do not thing ignorant, stupid, or moron are on that list.

Josh I did not take personal offense at your comment since I know what you were getting at- but my point is just that responding to my bitching with personal insults is not such a great thing to do either.

I overreacted for sure- but maybe everyone else did too?

In any case, this has turned into far too big a deal and I'm sick of worrying about it, and I hope it can just be over, as I'm sure you all do too. I am still the person you know (or don't) and love (or don't)- nothing has changed. The sun is coming (I know it is, it has to be!), and I think it will make us ALL feel better. :)

All my love, friends,
-J

P.S. Bonus points to (e:metalpeter)- yes that was Tony singing. It was his old band, Molotov Cocktail, Inc. I, for one, am quite impressed. Almost a little Blues Travelerish at the beginning, I think.

I'm too tired to get into it, but- how many times do I have to apologize?! I AM SORRY! ok? :'(