My Thanksgiving Break...

Was great.

Spent time with family and friends and even managed to get a tiny bit of studying done. A TINY BIT. A smidgen. A pinch, if you will. A hint of studying.

I feel as though I have lots of stuff to blog about (nothing remotely interesting, of course) but I mustn't slack!

I should be reading tomorrow's lectures and getting to bed early.

Fun, huh?

I know it would be cliche to blog about what I am thankful for.

But I'll do it anyway.

I'm thankful for the love in my life, from family and friends. I'm thankful for everything that I have that others do not, and I'm even thankful for stuff I don't have that others do (what fun would life be if everything was handed to me?)

I'm thankful for the sexy meal I'm gonna have at my aunt's house tonight.

I'm thankful to be in Miami.

What a much needed break!!!

I swung by the old university yesterday to print out a whole bunch of stuff for free. I hopped on the metro to visit my old workplace, the Diabetes Research Institute. I miss that place! I got to see a few old coworkers, but a lot of people that I wanted to see were missing (Lane!).

At night 5 of us went to eat at Los Ranchos. First good steak I've had in a while! There is no churrasco in DC, and that, my friends, is a travesty.

We ate, drank, and were merry. We then hit up Chilis. We drank and were merry. Next we went to a get together at some guy's house. We drank some more, and got a little merrier. We went to Aldo's house after that. We were drunk and merry.

Moving right along... the night was absolutely spectacular for me. I missed my friends a lot. I'm thankful for those fuckers. There was some mega awkwardness for Mirma, and it provided some great entertainment for the night. I cannot share the craziness of the evening, for your head would explode immediately upon reading it. I'm also way too lazy and hungover.

And so, I'm thankful to be home with these silly friends of mine. I've missed them very mucho.

Sigh...

SO...

When my parents came to visit back in October my dad was sitting there in my living room when he decided to purchase my ticket for Thanksgiving. He asked me when I could leave by, when I wanted to return, and, after about an hour of discussion, he purchased a ticket for me to leave Monday, November 20 @ 9:00 pm.

When I woke up today I felt it. I felt that something was going to go wrong. I ignored the feeling and went about my day as usual. Come 7:30 I was arriving at the airport. I walked into the American Airlines section, to find it disturbingly empty and quiet.

To make a long story short, my father bought a ticket FROM MIAMI TO DC by mistake. YEAH. Not so cool.

Luckily the woman at the counter was nice enough to not charge me the usual extra 100 bucks to re-route a flight, and she let me know that I could come in early Tuesday morning, do "standby," and hop on a flight.

Had I committed this error, my dad would never have let me hear the end of it. He still somehow partially blamed me for this one. The conversation was something like:

Dad: I thought I told you to check the online information for your ticket!

Me: I did check it. Several times.

Dad: *exasperated* How did you not notice????

Me: Well, DAD, when I checked it, I was looking at flight time, flight number, and airport. You know, the stuff that people mess up on most often. It did not occur to me that it would be possible that my father, in all his wisdom, would commit such an error.

Dad: >something fatherly to keep on blaming me somehow<

Me: Fine, it's all my fault. I'm sorry. I REALLLLLY messed up this time.

I know he's just frustrated on my behalf. In this situation he'd be a huge sour puss. Well, I say, all's well that ends well. Hopefully it'll end well, though!

Time to hit the sack and stop talking smack.

quick sidenote: the pic bears no relevance to the topic of this post. I just think it's pretty : )

All Hail the Chipotle Burrito!

What you're lookin' at, folks, are the nutrition facts for the specific burrito I consumed today after a "Help the Homeless" walk-a-thon, which, by the way, happened to be at 9 am, way too early for my liking.

So, yeah. Look at them nutrition facts. Honestly, they use all-natural ingredients, and pride themselves on the fact that thie cows aren't pumped with antibiotics and hormones. That's super cool. What is not so cool is the whopping caloric content of one of these burritos. I mean, 1245 calories?!?!? That's c-r-a-z-y!

But oh man, that cilantro rice, the black beans.... the sour cream and salsa, the spicy meat. Sigh. I wouldn't be surprised to discover that Chiptole uses some sort of addictive substance in their food.

This is not a post of guilt, by the way. I refuse to feel guilty for enjoying the sexiness that is a Chipotle burrito.

I need to feed my new big muscles, anyway. Okay, I don't have big muscles, but I'm definitely seeing results from my weight lifting. Yee-haw. I would be seeing better weight loss results had I not injured my knee like the big fat spaz that I am.

Also, the walk-a-thon was probably a 300 calorie ordeal. Furthermore, my lack of breakfast allows for an extra heavy lunch. I'm usually not a breakfast-skipper. I believe in the value of a hefty breakfast, to start your day properly, but I woke up really really really late. We were supposed to meet with a group from Georgetown and have donuts but we got there too late :(

Back to rationalizing my sinful lunch.... I will hit up the gym after this post and further make up for the burrito. I would work out for 3 hours if I had to, just for one burrito. That's power!

Sexy, delightful burrito, I give myself to thee, body and soul. Yum.

^sexy

SLIM

Today, the volunteer comittee sponsored the viewing of a 30 minute documentary, "SLIM," about children in Africa with AIDS.

I attended, and I am glad I did, despite the tears and heavy uncomfortable feeling it left me with. It was extremely moving. It scares me to think about how this huge population of people is in need of help (ie health education, anti-retroviral drugs) while in countries such as this one, people drive Hummers and carry thousand dollar handbags. Cellphones with video cameras, blackberry pagers, diamond rings, etc etc.....Of course, I'd be an asshole blind hypocrite if I said I didn't spend money on stuff that is not necessary. I am by NO MEANS a bling-bling brand name ho, but I do spend money on things for the sheer joy they bring me.

My issue is that I don't understand how a world like ours can exist while a world like the one in Africa simultaneously exists. How can some people have so little, and others so much? How is that fair?

What made the documentary extra profound is just seeing these children, so young, telling their stories. Seeing a child, in all of his or her innocence, suffering this way is just awful. They get treated badly by peers, teachers, and even family for having HIV. All of the children in the documentary were born with HIV.

The video defintely left most of us with a sense of obligation. A feeling of "what can I do to help?" As aspriring physicians, most students in this program already have motivation to help others, a sense of compassion, an inherent need to contribute to something meaningful. I know that I was not alone today in feeling the responsibility to try to remedy the injustice in this world.

It's things like this that make me count my blessings. I'm glad to be alive, glad to be healthy, well off, educated. Things like this make me forget about the unfortunate grade I got in whatever stupid class. Makes me forget about not getting into medical school last year, and just pushes me to work hard as hell to get in this year.

Thank you world, for everything.

I am a friggin dummy.

So far, the most embarassing moment of my Georgetown existence (which is slightly over 3 months old) occured yesterday. During a break between biochemistry lectures (we get two in a row-oh the inhumanity!) some friends and I went on a coffee run. On the way back, I did my usual: touch-the-door-before-touching-the-handle-in-order-to-avoid-getting-shocked-by-the-handle move. You know what I'm talking about, right? It happens more often in dry weather... you're walking along on a nice carpet, and you reach over and touch something made of metal, and zzzzz you get zapped. I HATE THAT SHIT! When I worked for my dad, it used to happen to me with the big metal file cabinet, and my dad taught me that if I touched the wall (or something nonmetallic) before touching the file cabinet, I wouldn't get shocked. Well, I've gotten myself into the habit of doing it on every door lately, since DC is kind of getting dry and I've been zapped a couple of times.

Where was I? OH YEAH... so upon returning from the coffee break, I was walking briskly and therefore well ahead of my friends, putting me in the position to open the classroom door for them. I did my usual touch something nonmetal before touching the handle, and one friend, who always makes fun of me for this move, let out a little giggle. This, for some reason, made me blurt out "I HATE YOU" in my booming voice just as we were entering the classroom (population: approximately 150 students). Unfortunately for me, lecture had already begun, and was being given by, of all people, THE HEAD OF OUR PROGRAM WHO IS SUPER IMPORTANT! Everyone heard it, and lots of people turned around. The lecturer didn't so much as flinch, but I am sure he noticed and he probably made the mental note of "do NOT let that girl into Georgetown medical school." We were told in the beginning of the year to treat this year as if it were a "year-long interview." WELL THEN. I sure messed that one up!

Moral of the story: don't tell people you hate them in a loud, booming voice as you are entering a classroom in which class has potentially begun (and is being taught by someone extra important).

So that was yesterday. Today we got free pizza and so we were all up there on the terrace, hanging out. Lots of people made it a point to remind me how hilarious it was that I yelled "I HATE YOU" during Dr. Myer's lecture. Yeah. Super funny.

Honestly though, I can't help but laugh at myself.

I must say, this is not the first time I've embarassed myself this way. Once in highschool, during physics lecture, I wrote in huge letters "I WILL KILL YOU" on a paper and held it up for my friend to see. The teacher saw it, thought it was directed toward HIM, and freaked out a bit. Sigh. Such is my fate... to look like a complete ass in front of important people.

Signing off,
The spaz.

Yesterday...

All my troubles seemed so far away?

No no...

Yesterday, 4 fellow classmates and I volunteered at the Maryland vs Miami game to raise money for our class. We donned yellow jackets and were part of the "CSC event staff" that you see all over the place at football games.

When I heard about this volunteering opportuinity, I was so excited. I love sporting events. The energy of the crowd, the people you see, and the sheer stupidity and craziness just do something for me. When I found out the Canes would be playing, I was even more excited.

At first, I was put as a ticket-taker. This proved to be lots of fun and very tiring. I got a couple of "I love you" and "Hey baby" ticket holders. I also got to be a huge disgrace to the Maryland stadium by saying "Go Canes" to all the UM fans that came in. Too bad we lost : (

After the first quarter, there isn't such a high demand for ticket takers, and so we were instructed to go to the field. Some people are placed on the field and required to face the crowd, make sure no one's getting too rowdy. I was lucky enough to be placed on the field with another girl, standing on either side of the ESPN camera man, making sure people didn't pass in front of his camera. This translated into: I could watch the game from an endzone- the endzone where Miami should've scored that touchdown but kicked the last fieldgoal instead. (sigh).

Seriously, it was awesome to be on the field! And the best part about it, it was free for me and it went to help raise money for my class to have kickass parties. I am surprised more fellow students didn't come out.

After the game we had to stand around the tunnel for the Terp football players. They came out after a while and greeted family and girlfriends. It was interesting to watch this, but I was tired as hell.

Although it is extremely tiring, I will probably do this volunteer thing every time the opportunity presents itself. In the spring we will probably do this at concerts, which is even better than sports for me!

Despite the fact that I'm super duper mega behind on studying, I just wasted a sizeable amount of time on myspace and the facebook.

I AM A SLACKER

Borat: Ignorant Garbage or Brilliant Social Commentary?

So YEAH. We got Friday off for a nice 3 day weekend. I was supposed to take advantage of this and study for the biochemistry exam I have on Friday. What did I do instead? Did laundry and went to the movies on Friday (watched Borat and Saw III). Saturday I read ONE LECTURE. ONE friggin lecture. Out of 19. That's about 5.3% of what I need to study. I went to the gym for a while, too. I should've stayed home last night, but I've been so effing bored and I got invited to go out so I did. Nice bar called Fab Lounge. Not exactly my favorite music in the world, but I had a lot of fun nonetheless. I believe the music is trance or maybe it's called house music. I'm so bad with those genres. I like the bars here more than those in Miami. Much more laid back, much cheaper drinks too, although this one had a 10 dollar cover. I didn't mind the cover charge cause the money goes to kids who are suffering in Thailand or something like that. Hooray for good causes!

I've been a little miss poopie pants lately. The novelty of this new life has worn off a bit, and waiting for medical schools to invite me for an interview is promoting the sproutage of white hair on my noggin. Is sproutage a word? Who cares. It's a word now.

Right now, this post, in all its pointlessness, is just another way in which I am putting off the studying. BAD MARIANA! OK, let me give this post a "point." How 'bout a movie review of Borat?

"FUCKIN' HILARIOUS!" -The Mariana Post
"Sasha Baron Cohen is a genius." -Mariana & Ebert
"Delightfully naughty!" -MK
"This movie is tight like anus of 7 year old boy." -The DC loserface times

Although I kinda feel bad for the people of Kazakhstan, I think this movie was great. That about wraps up the movie review. Now I'm gonna study for real.

Randomness...

Gotta workout more. Side articles on websites are conveniently reminding me over and over again that the only way to burn fat is through cardiovascular exercise. But I hate cardio : (

whateverrrrrrrrrrrr.

On this fine evening, I watched yet another riveting, tasteless episode of Nip/Tuck. Watching it made me think of all the mean boys I know, and all the not so mean boys I know. This train of thought somehow led me to remember a theory that I've always believed is true:

It is often possible to anticipate how a guy/man will treat his girlfriend/wife based on how he treats his own mother.

This is pretty self explanatory. Now, this can backfire, as you wouldn't want to marry a guy who constantly compares your casserole to mom's, or the way you clean, etc.

BUT...there's a definite red flag that goes up when you see a guy who is harsh to his mommy, or even one who doesn't talk to her. Of course, there are boys with mommies who are crazy or unbearable but even then, you can tell a lot by how the guy deals with the psychobitch. It's oh so pleasant to see a boy who is thoughtful toward the maternal half of his parental unit: ie buying her gifts that she actually likes, taking the time to call her and talk to her, etc. I think boys who do this are more likely to have a nice *sigh* sensitive side, ya know? BUT OF COURSE...no one wants a momma's boy! It's nice to see a boy who is like that to a mom who didn't spoil him; a mom who raised him right and a boy who shows his appreciation of that, merely by giving her the time of day.

It kind of ties into the next theory, which is:

It is difficult to have a good relationship with someone who does not have good relationships with his/her family/friends.

Obvious. Of course, every family has its problems and its weird tendencies, but if you see that someone communicates with his/her parents and siblings, then chances are they'll be good at communicating in the romantic relationship setting.

Another one:

Boys who have sisters are more likely to be more respectful and kind, even sensitive *sigh.*

This needs some specifications. I run out of fingers counting the dudes I know who are mega dirtbags and are exceedingly overprotective of their sisters, even controlling. They act as though their sisters should never ever make any mistakes, never date any douchebags, without ever taking some introspective time to see that they are the douchebags who set the example for the douchebags that they're protecting their sisters from. Oh the hypocrisy.

No no, those aren't the guys I'm referring to. I mean the ones who talk to their sisters, who treat them like equals maybe? I don't know.

To make a more general point, boys who grow up around a lot of female influences who they respect and talk to will be great catches.

Speaking of siblings,

People who grew up as "the only child" or "the baby of the family" will generally have some annoying personality traits: greediness, whininess, and the inability to compromise, just to name a few.

Again, this is pure generalization. And I'm neither the first nor the only person to say it. Monica and I call this "only child syndrome" and have both experienced it first-hand.

Some other "diseases" plaguing many individuals around us:

Firefighter Syndrome and Short Complex. I'm still ironing out the symptoms and causes of Firefighter Syndrome,. Short Complex is a common one, also known as Napoleon Complex, I believe. Short Complex only afflicts males. 1 in every 3 height challenged males shows clinical symptoms of Short Complex. Despite the fact that there are tons of cute petite girls to go around, individuals suffering from Short Complex generally exhibit unbearable personality traits (insecurity, aggressiveness) and ridiculous compensation via material things. 1 in every 4 will drive an SUV/HUMMER in an effort to prove to the world that their height in no way represents the size of their member.

Time for bed. Join us next time when we discuss how you can tell a man's penis size (or penis-size insecurities) by observing his behavior.