First, read this.
After I got the news about my adrenal mass, time seemed to both slow down and speed up.
Cedric had paged Surgery for a consult, he told me before leaving the hospital at 8pm, the end of his shift. I had arrived at the ER around 4:30pm and up until this point, I had been given a steady amount of attention and was rarely left alone for long.
But then I was left waiting, and waiting, and waiting. Drunk Bill Cosby alternately bellowed and snored. Nurses and doctors would move my gurney out of the way so they could access one of the computer terminals. A nurse noticed me quietly crying and gave me tissues. Tiny, thin, papery, terrible hospital tissues.
This is kind of a long story, one that doesn’t yet have an ending so I am opting to break it into parts. Here is Part 1 of who knows how many.
I’m not a Broadway person (other than this really) but recently, I keep find myself rewriting the lyrics to that famous song from Rent.
But instead of “minutes,” I’d say “blood tests, CT scans and doctor visits” because for the last two weeks, that has been my life.
Things were looking up, mostly.
I went on a fabulous vacation with friends. Though hard, I survived a year of sad anniversaries. I moved to a shiny new apartment and had a trip to Italy in my immediate future. Continue reading
I have a pair of tickets to the most popular show on Broadway and I’d like to give* them to you.
You’re probably wondering why I’d give up my tickets. In the interest of full disclosure, I have a pair of nosebleed seats for a November show so don’t feel too bad for me.
But more importantly, I knew having an asset like Hamilton tickets would allow me to do something special in memory of my Dad (more about him here).
And if you don’t win, you can always buy some Hamilton swag for enjoyment at home.
Bidding ends 8/24/16. Bid early, bid often, bid now! SOLD! Thank you so much for your support.
*In exchange for a winning bid on ebay. This is a fundraiser for science, after all.
The Twitter trending topic got me thinking – and laughing.
I got working papers the summer when I was fourteen. My childhood friend Earl’s family owned a local restaurant and they were kind enough to hire me even though I had never worked. The restaurant didn’t serve alcohol which is part of why I could work there. In my home state of PA, you had to be at least eighteen to wait tables in a place with a liquor license (at least then; not sure about now).
I wasn’t the most attractive hire. My parents wanted me to learn about responsibility and “the value of a dollar.” But Mom also didn’t want me working more than ten or twelve hours per week. Additionally I had an active schedule between summer dance workshops and performances and cheerleading practices, not to mention chasing boys.
You know I hate it when people say “I’m obsessed” but here I am, doing exactly that.
Here are a few things currently occupying my thoughts.
What happened to my awesome old cutoffs?
I had two pairs I loved. Perfect for knocking around the neighborhood on hot summer days. But both are gone. Just gone. I suspect my mother of junking them at some point.
…and thought seriously about not coming back. Whether you call it St. Martin or Sint Maarten, it’s a beautiful island.
When my annual trip to Rehoboth fell through, Tammy came to my rescue.
Ever since I moved to my new apartment, I have cooked more and ordered less. Sorry Seamless, but this is a good change for me.
Recently I tried this recipe for a Mexican casserole from Joanna Goddard’s blog by Jennifer Farley of Savory Simple.
Via Joanna Goddard
I added ground beef to my version, but it would also be great with pulled chicken or chorizo. It was easy to make and I had meals for days. If one were inclined to make this lower fat or to hide vegetables inside, that would be simple to pull off.
It had been a while since I did much baking so I also made an apple-pear-blueberry crisp from my old standby desserts-only cookbook.
If you have any cook-ahead go-to meals, I’d love to hear about them in the comments.