The Truth Is...

...I want to bake. All day. Every day. 

I don't know how society can expect people to choose their career at the ridiculous age of 18. People haven't even fully matured by that time. Givemeabreak!

Granted, some people just know but I was not one of them. I changed my major three times and even now, I'm not 100% confident I chose something I can do forever. I do love nutrition. It's interesting. And I'll admit I'm a tad exhausted, stressed, burnt out, and grumpy this week, so my emotions may be biasing me, but I do know being a clinical dietitian is not something I want to be doing 10 years from now. Maybe not even 5. Plus I have a bajillion interests. Baking, obviously, is the top. I love it. I delight in the idea of getting up in the wee hours of the morning--because mornings are my favorite part of the day, especially before most people are up--and creating and concocting sweet treats. I could bake for hours. Plus there is nothing like watching someone bite into something you created and watching their facial expressions as they indulge. Priceless. 
Now I know you're probably thinking, So do it! Well, you're right. I should. But it's a tad more complicated than that. But I know myself and I know that the things I really, really want, I will do anything to get so we'll see. 
Maybe I'll start working at a bakery. Now that would be a blast. Time to job search...and dream...and find a recipe to bake something...

Image 

What's a girl to do?

30

I had a great chat with my friend Marissa as we were walking along the boardwalk back to our cars after eating donuts at 11:30pm Friday night (which was awesome--the donuts, the chatting, the conversation, and the ocean--all of it). She's been to Spain and she was telling me all about it and of course I was eating up her words, stories and descriptions like a starving person. Then she and her roommate Allie came over last night and we watched "Letters to Juliet" (cheesy chick flick but it takes place in Italy so who the heck cares!?). 

Marissa and I have decided that if we aren't married by the time we are 30, we're up and moving to Europe.

It's on. 

Photo credit
Is it weird that now I'm hoping I don't get married until after 30 so I can move to Europe?

Dreams and the Hunt for Black Squid Ink Pasta

I have a tentative 5 year plan. I'm not going into all the details because, truthfully, I have about 3 different 5 year plans depending on this, that, and the other. One of those plans was created because sometimes I toy with the idea of becoming a physician's assistant (PA). Why? Because I would get to basically practice like a doctor without all of the schooling. And I crave to know everything doctors know because it just absolutely fascinates me!!!! I just want to know!!! IT'S SO. COOL. In fact, our ICU dietitian was telling me today that one of the doctors was testing everyone in rounds this morning. I was jealous. I want to be tested! I want to learn! I want to know what the BNP should be in someone with mild vs. severe heart failure!!!!

Anyway, I don't normally talk about dreams because trying to explain them is just too tricky but this one deserves to be shared. It's really funny. At least I thought it was. I had a dream that I was back at school working on becoming a PA but the school I was at was Hogwartz-esque. It was awesome. Old buildings, shiny wood everywhere, brilliant minds zipping around. I don't remember if I was wearing spiffy robes but probably. I'm going to be pretend that I was. I had part of a schedule in my hand and one of my classes was on "Doctor's Handwriting." Legit. No joke. How to write like a doctor. I think with my sloppy handwriting, I'd ace this class. I even had worksheets where I was supposed to practice writing the statement but in "doctor's handwriting," aka illegible. I suppose subconsciously you can tell that I spend a great deal of time trying to decipher doctor's progress notes. I do. Back to the dream. As I was rushing through the crowds of students, who do I bump into but the infamous Dr. W! I told him I was going to become a PA. He thought it was cool and then walked away and I went back to my Harry-Potter-like bedroom and started studying. And then I woke up. Bummer. But it was such a cool dream.


Now, Clary will be here on Thursday and so I've planned out a menu while she is here. One entree includes black squid ink pasta, which I have been dying to try in f o r e v e r. Well a few weeks back I found it at Home Goods but declined buying it. Bad idea. I went tonight and they didn't have it. Sad, sad day. In fact, I didn't find anything I wanted in Home Goods. That NEVER happens!!! I think they are in between shipments or something, you know, getting ready for summer stuff. Then I even tried World Market and they didn't have it. Jeepers. What has a girl got to do to get some black squid ink pasta around here??? 

Make Way For Ducklings

I was on my way to yoga tonight, I stopped at a red light and looked over across the intersection and saw two ducks looking to make sure no traffic was coming before they waddled across the street.

It was the cutest thing. 

As the light turned green I looked in my side mirror and kept thinking, Come on little ones! Hurry up!!! Good news, they made it safely and after that all I could think of was the book "Make Way for Ducklings." 

Yoga kicked my butt tonight...and my thighs...and everything else...and I loved it.

And now, another Dr. W story for your reading pleasure:

I have a patient with diabetes (I KNOW, shocker. I hope you were sitting when you read that). As I was doing my assessment I was asking her if she checks her blood sugars at home, what her numbers are, if she's had a hemoglobin A1c checked, etc. Well her numbers weren't good and she told me she had her A1c checked and it was high. Never good. So I wanted to check one because...I wanted to see because...it's helpful with education, which she said she'd like more of. Wonderful. So, at staffing in between patients I turned to the delightful Dr. W:

"Dr. W, may I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

"May I ask you another one."

"You just did." 

"May I ask you a few questions???"

"Yes, go ahead." (At this point he's smirking at his wit and sass and I'm smirking because I'm throwing it right back at him and I'm prepared...you'll see. Read on).

"Well the patient in room [whatever] has diabetes and I know it's not her primary diagnosis but she told me her blood sugars are high and her A1c the last time it was checked was high and I'd like to check it here because I believe it will be a helpful education tool to use when I give her more education, which SHE requested." (Please note, in true Gabe fashion, this was spoken as fast yet as clearly as possible (which means probably nearly incomprehensible) without any breaths in between. Thank you New England for teaching me to walk, talk, and be fast. Thank you Mom for cursing/blessing me with the ability to speak fast (which means I speak even faster than your average New Englander). 

I paused and let him process this...for about 4 seconds and continued:

"I mean, you don't have to but I think it would help."

"'I don't have to?' Oh thank you for telling me what I can and cannot do." Dr. W smirked (getting his pen out) and was getting a little sassy. And I started to giggle.

"NO! That's not what I meant! I just meant that, you know, if you don't think it's really beneficial and would be a waste, especially since it's not her primary diagnosis, I am prepared to accept your decline. BUT. I'm just saying that it would be helpful. Unless you want her back in here for renal failure secondary to uncontrolled diabetes which may have been prevented had I struck home after getting that A1c number and using that as I educated her."

He cocked his head, listening to my not-so-subtle-plea but well thought out and urgently delivered argument. 

"Fine."

Score 1 for the dietitian!!! *victory dance*

 I am always prepared to bring my A game for my patients.

Random thought.

I am, at any given moment, quite seriously tempted to throw responsibility and caution to the wind, quit my job and move to Europe. I am SO SICK of watching other people get to live my dreams. I'm sick of it. I'll just move to Italy, find some random job working as the hired help in some quaint little shop or restaurant, be adopted and taken in by the elderly and adorable shop owner and his wife. They'll teach me to cook, I'll be blissfully happy, and then her handsome, gentlemanly Italian son will come for a visit, we'll fall madly in love and I will have an Italian mother-in-law whom I will love, adore, and cherish, live in a foreign country, and be an awesome cook. And travel throughout all of Europe with the love of my life.

Don't. Dash. My. Dream.

*sigh*

Since I will not throw caution to the wind tonight (but don't tempt me, I'm nearing my breaking point people),  I will make a french baguette tomorrow (since I have yet to find a place to buy a decent blasted baguette in this bread-forsaken place) while dreaming of buying an authentic baguette at une boulangerie et du fromage and munching on them while sitting on the grass in front of the Eiffel Tower.

Picture from here

What would you do for a lobster roll (not a Klondike bar)???

There are 2 things my mom has discovered she can bribe her children with: Lago's ice cream and lobster rolls.

I will do just about anything for either of these and my mom uses it to her full advantage. I will weed, take down a ceiling (more on this shortly), and help strip, paint, and revamp a shed (to come), and anything else my mom asks me to do if only she will say, "I'll take you to Lagos!," or "I'll buy you a lobster roll [from the Beach Plum]!" And then I can't help but say, "OK!," as my eyes glaze over envisioning the succulent taste of either treat. DIVINE I tell you, DIVINE!

I spent yesterday taking down the laundry room ceiling with my mom and Heath. Here are the before and after pictures.

BEFORE

AFTER

Now what I have learned from this experience? You know how construction workers often put up sheets to seal in a room when they are doing things like this? THERE IS A REASON!!!! We didn't, although we did think about and our entire house, no lie, was covered in a film of nasty dust and debris from this little adventure. Not to mention I think we each took 5 years off our lives with the amount of dust, dirt, and grime we have inhaled. Gross. And don't worry, we didn't open the windows until we were nearly finished because we all thought they wouldn't open (they had been winterized and basically sealed shut). FALSE. With a little elbow grease, they opened just fine. You better believe we were gasping for air! At least we did it though and after the shed project is complete, our SWEET reward will be one of the best lobster rolls on the coast. Hallelujah!

And now on to other things.

My mom and I went to Newburyport, MA on Thursday. I love this place! Quaint, cute little shops, cobblestone sidewalks; it's spectacular. In fact, we discovered a vintage shop and had a blast. I bought a navy blue/white polka-dotted dress and this exquisite pair of multi-polka dotted heels. Yay! Which brings me to my next little written excursion...

I love vintage stuff. I'm sure I've said it before, but I was meant to live in the late 1940s and early 1950s. When we visit Newburyport, we always stop into this antique shop called Flukes & Finds & Friends. It's one of our favorites. Anyway, I have this desire to own vintage luggage including a hat box. I just think they are so fantastic, magnanimous even. And I found this set in the antique shop and I oooohed and aaaahhhed over it and opening each piece and just squealing with girlish delight. You see, I have this vision: I am off to visit somewhere amazing (eh hem EUROPE eh hem) and I step off the train in this wonderfully fitted empire waist, knee-length dress, white gloves, carrying vintage luggage, ready for some enchanting adventure. Come on, you have go to admit it's pretty cool. It's one of my dreams. I didn't buy the set because I am waiting to find the perfect set. The set I found was lovely but not perfect so I'm waiting and dreaming. Plus when I'm not using them, they'll make a nice side table to set my books on, don't you think???

And while I dream I think I am going to purchase this vintage beaut (but in yellow, not red)
And P.S. I ran an 8-minute mile on Friday. WAHOO!!! And my mom just came into my room doing a boogie singing "All the Single Ladies." And that, ladies and gentlemen, is one of the infinite reasons I love my family; unexpected moments resulting in gut-busting laughter. I love my family and have never been so happy to be home.

Sliver

I stumbled upon this quote a couple of days ago as I was doing some research...

"To accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream; not only plan, but also believe."– Anatole France

I needed it. Correction, NEED it.

I applied to 5 jobs on Monday, with a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed dream and hope of the east coast and enjoying the city life for a bit and the autumn colors, exploring the city, having an income, finally having a career....I could go on. Then Tuesday morning I woke up, checked my mail and saw that I had been rejected by my number one and two choices (in Boston and NYC, respectively) since I don't meet the minimum qualifications. Ouch. But then I thought about it. True statement. I'm technically not done with my internship yet so I'm not qualified. Dang. Now my patience is really being put to the test. So I felt pretty down and decided to hold off applying until I'm a little closer to graduation. Bust. I hate waiting. I want to know NOW so that I can plan, plan, plan. Drats. All I have is a bunch of "ifs."

BUT THEN.

I got an e-mail today that gave me a sliver of hope. My number one choice in Boston e-mailed to say they had received my application and it was in the process of review and if I am chosen I will be contacted in 2-4 weeks for an interview. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? So I went back and re-read the first e-mail, which I thought was a rejection. Not so! They just e-mailed to say they got my application....blah blah blah. It doesn't matter. The point being, THERE IS STILL A SLIVER OF HOPE!!!!!!!!!! I'm still technically not RD-eligible until May BUT if they take super long to review the applications and IF they think I'm qualified and a good fit there is a chance. THERE IS STILL A CHANCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Pleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohplease
ohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohplease
ohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohplease
ohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseOHPLEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE!


I realize and acknowledge that I may or may not sound slightly, or really, childish right now but if you only knew how badly I want to be in Boston maybe you could understand. Maybe.


So here's to acting, dreaming (lots of it!), planning, and believing (and praying and pleading and hoping)!

These are a few of my favorite things....

...my new longboard, named Nigel (note: picture is NOT of my actual board but pretty close)

...UPS/Fed Ex tracking online. Now I know that my fixed camera will be here...TODAY!

...dreaming of someday (soon) living and spending my entire summer (and fall and winter and spring) in New England. At the beach.
...peanut butter cookies because my friend Lillian made them while I was gone for the weekend so I would have a full cookie jar when I got back.
....since we're talking about peanut butter--everyday for lunch I have a delicious PB and banana sandwich. I LOVE THEM!
...garden fountains. One of my favorite sounds is running water. I know. Weird? Maybe? It's a wonderful sound to hear when I walk out on my way to work. Just trust me.

...sitting on the porch eating dinner, after dinner, reading, in the morning, anytime really, and sitting on the porch swing
...dreaming and planning and dreaming and yearning and dreaming of my trip to Italy someday

Also, today I learned how to work a forklift. Huh. I'll stick to dietetics.

Je rêve...Io sogno....

I recently finished reading "Entre Nous: A Woman's Guide to Finding Her Inner French Girl" and recently watched the film "Letters to Juliet." After doing both of these things and listening to French music, I have once again awakened the deep desire within me to travel and live abroad in France and Italy. I HAVE TO GO THERE.

France


I want to go here for the culture, but that is far too broad of a term. And when I say France, I don't just mean Paris and all the "touristy" places. I want to see the obscure, not-on-the-map towns where the people have lived their for years and years. I want to eat French food and eat wonderful, delicious, fresh food from the market that I bought in the morning. I want to cook French food in my tiny, itty-bitty kitchen, wander among the arrondissements on my beach cruiser. I also am rather fond of their lifestyle and their desire to live life not make a living. Four to five weeks of paid vacation each year sounds lovely. I like working hard but I'm not a fan of the cellphone/e-mail/Blackberry/iPhone/time-fanatic lifestyle so commonly found in the America. Plus they take their time to eat, which is perhaps why France doesn't have quite the obesity problem America does. I'm serious. Anyways, if I can't live in France someday (dagger to the heart) I will spend at least a month there.

Italy

Have you seen "Letters to Juliet"? If you haven't, you're desire to visit Italy will only intensify. I also have a love for many things Italian: food, food, clothes, movies, scenery, food, men, music, books, and...food. I just gotta go!

In other news...
I went for a drug/alcohol test today before I begin my job on Monday. Well, I got into the little room, signed the paperwork and was directed to a chair to sit in. I thought they might take some blood and/or make me pee in a cup. No big deal right? Right...or so I thought. The woman spun me around and said something about going in underneath so my immediate thought was that she was going to take a sample from my neck or something. WEIRD. Next she asked me whether I wear my hair up or down more. Down. Ok weird question. Is she trying to distract me from the pain? THEN...I feel and hear scissors!!!!!!! SHE CUT A PIECE OF MY HAIR!!!!!!! I felt like Sampson. How rude. She didn't even tell me. And then she SHOWED me how much she took! It was a chunk as thick as my finger. So now I have some weird spot underneath (ok thankfully it was underneath) my hair. I didn't even search for it when I got home because I don't want to know. And when I showered today I swear my hair felt thinner. Over dramatic? Yes. But she took my hair. Sad day.

sunday scribblings: Big Dreams

In honour of the Olympics and the amazing things that people are capable of, the prompt this week is: big dreams.

Wow this weekend was awesome. I feel like I can do anything and I'm pumped. But since I feel like I just wrote a prompt that fits for this week's Sunday Scribblings, I'm not going to write another, because, well, it'd be too similar.

Click here to see read about Gabe's Big Dreams

Happy Sunday!