The day the super hero pooped on my front porch.

Halloween has always been one of those holidays that just didn't do anything for me. It's not that I don't like holidays, because I do, I absolutely love Thanksgiving and Christmas. But it seems like everyone these days lives for Halloween. It has become the most popular holiday of my generation. I am not here to discuss the spiritual aspects of Halloween, because that is not the reason for my distaste. I personally do not think it is heathen to let your kids dress up and go trick-or-treating, or for adults to put on a costume and go have a good time at a party. I've been known to do that myself a time or two. But there is one pervading theme at the end of all my Halloween experiences - it's just not that fun. Maybe it's because I've never had the perfect costume, or maybe because I hate going out only to find some of my friends dressed up like sluts for the sake of a "costume". Who knows, all this bitterness could be due to the fact that my favorite childhood pet, Chadwick, was killed by my rambunctious teenage neighbors at their Halloween party simply because they saw a black cat walking down the street and they decided it'd be funny to throw him to his death in the neighborhood pool. Whatever the case, I am just not too keen about Halloween.

This Halloween provided yet another reason for me to find the holiday annoying. On Friday, October 30, I had taken my cumulative final examination for my Immunity and Infectious Disease class. Having never studied for anything so hard in my life, I was absolutely exhausted and beat by the time the weekend of freedom arrived. While most college students were gearing up to go out for all the Halloween festivities, I was winding down and getting ready to catch some much needed Z's.

Ed and I had watched a semi-scary movie on TV earlier that evening, and while I was somewhat scared from it, I convinced myself that it was just a stupid movie and that I'd be fine. Ed tucked me into bed and then left my apartment to go back to his place. A little before 3 am I woke up suddenly. Not knowing what caused me to do this, I figured I must have been having a dream. As I rolled over to try to fall back asleep I heard a noise. Now let me first say that I live in an apartment complex full of undergrad students, so it is always loud. I think normally I would have shrugged off the noise, but due to being on edge because of the scary movie I'd watched, I immediately picked up my phone and called Ed. I was afraid I would wake him up, but of course my night owl was still wide awake. I explained to him I heard something and he told me to not worry, he'd come over to check it out. FYI, he lives about 5 minutes from my apartment.

I hung up with him and once again rolled over to try to fall asleep, but then I heard the noise again, and this time it was louder. I turned on my bedroom lights, thinking that if someone was really out there and they saw that someone was inside, they'd panic and leave. Well the noises only started getting louder, and then I heard yelling. I opened up my bedroom door and looked down the hall and realized that the noise was coming from my front door. Someone was messing with the door knob. I immediately went to my bedroom, opened up my back window in case I needed an escape, grabbed a wood plank for protection, and called Ed again to let him know that someone was trying to get inside. He at first told me to calm down and that no one was really there, but then I walked up to the door and looked in the peep hole and sure enough saw a guy standing there messing with the door handle. I then screamed to Ed on the phone, "No, I am not making this up, I am staring at a guy right now!!!" Well that blew my cover with the intruder, and he started to yell at me. "Let me in! I hear you! LET ME IN!" Not knowing what to do, I figured I couldn't just ignore him since he knew I was in there, so I answered in a deep voice (trying to sound like a man, which was an absolute failure), "GO AWAY! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY DOOR!" I felt bad for throwing the H word in there, but I needed to sound intimidating. I started beating the door and telling him to stop messing with me or else I'd call the cops. He laughed at me, which only made me more mad, and kept screaming to let him in.

After my verbal exchange with the intruder and physical exchange with the door (which probably lasted all of 10 seconds but felt like an eternity), I called 911. I explained the dilemna and the dispatcher told me that cops were on their way. She then asked me for details of what the guy looked like. "6 foot white male, about 20 years old" I answered. "What's he wearing?," she asked. I looked out the peep hole again to see. "A green sweatshirt, red cape, and no pants." Trying to hold back her laughter, the dispatcher told me she'd stay on the line with me as long as I needed or until the cops got there. I figured that it would be a good idea in case the guy got in, but then came the awkward silence. What do you talk to a 911 dispatcher about when you are waiting for a guy to break into your house? So I made some small talk. "If this guy gets into my apartment, am I allowed to hit him with my bat? Can I bash his head in?" She did not know how to respond to that, so after fumbling around for words, she said that I was allowed to protect myself if he did in fact get into my apartment. That made me feel better. I then let the lady know that my boyfriend was also on his way over to my apartment, so that the cops wouldn't beat him up if they happened to see him first.

Finally, I heard Ed run around the corner. My first thought was "Thank you Lord", but before that thought came to completion, a new thought emerged - what if Ed entered his "protective boyfriend that has way too many years of Army Special Forces training and can kill someone with one swift movement" mode? Fortunately, the stench of the gentleman intruder stopped Ed dead in his tracks. Ed would not get within 6 feet of him. The guy had pooped his pants, wadded them up and thrown them against my door, and was standing there in his underwear (not boxers, but undies) with poop all over his body. Ed told him to get away, and the guy kept saying that he wasn't going any where, this was his friend's apartment. Once Ed realized that this guy wasn't trying to break in or rape me, and that he was just completely wasted and high and had no idea where he was, he calmed down a bit. Ed tried to reason with the guy that he was in the wrong place, but the superhero was not going to budge.

The cops showed up shortly after, running to my front door from both angles so that the guy couldn't escape if he tried. But then all 3 of them did the same thing Ed did....sprinted all heroically around the corner then STOPPED within 6 feet. "What is that smell?!?," one of the cops yelled. Apparently it was atrocious; I never got a whiff of it. No one wanted to touch the guy, but the cops realized that he needed to be handcuffed and taken in. After finding a pair of gloves, one of the cops cuffed him. The guy mouthed off to the cop, so he tightened the cuffs another notch and threw the guy against the wall. It was beautiful. For the first time in my life, I liked the Po-Po.

I never got to thank the cops. I guess they didn't want to go through the trouble of filing a report, so they didn't even come talk to me. They did their job and left, which I was perfectly fine with. I had been all strong and put together during the whole ordeal, but when I finally got to see Ed afterwards, I fell into his arms and lost it, bawling my eyes out. I am such a girl.

I don't think there will be any long term consequences of this encounter with the pooping superhero intruder, but you never know. I do have a bruised fist from pounding the door, and I am still a little jittery at nights, but I expect a full recovery.

Until next Halloween....

Just call me Tim.

I wrote a blog not too long ago about how my competitiveness has dwindled since starting medical school. I sincerely believed this to be true when I put it down for the world to see, but I now must recant that statement. I am just as crazy competitive as I used to be, it's just that academia did not provide the proper platform to display it. Apparently all I need is a sports field...

Intramural flag football started up this month, and I signed up to play for the Microtubulies, the co-ed team comprised of my fellow 2nd year classmates. This was the same team I played with last year that lost in the Class A finals. We were winning with 2 minutes left and then choked and lost by 2 points. Not that I am bitter or anything. I also unwillingly signed up out for our class's all girl's team, the Snarfs, because they were desperate for more numbers. When enough people guilt-tripped me about dashing their dreams of getting to play if I didn't play, I gave in and reluctantly showed up to the first game. Sure enough, the Snarfs have been my favorite team to play with this season. Playing with girls really is more fun because everyone is so excited when we do anything right. Constant cheering and high-fiving is great for morale.

All was fine and dandy until we showed up to play the 3rd year medical student's team. The 2nd years had an exam the next day so we all knew we should skip the game to study, but how could we miss the chance to play our friends and supposedly the "best" team in the league? Eight girls showed up (exactly how many you need to field a team), but unfortunately everyone (including me) was completely exhausted and distracted. We played poorly the first half which was mostly our fault (read: I threw 3 interceptions), but more-so, the refs were out to get us the entire game. I won't go into it, but it was the most pathetic display of refereeing I had ever seen. They had to be getting something under the table. It got the point where half of our team was laughing at every call, and the other half cursing (plus, mix a few tears in as well to get the whole picture). I went up to the refs multiple times and yelled in their faces, dissing not only their play-calling abilities, but their personal lives. It was not one of my high points. I am somewhat surprised I didn't get thrown out. On top of that, the girls we played, who typically are our friends and peers off the field (some of which come to my bible study), were as obnoxious as could be. They played dirty, cheated whenever possible, and tried to hurt us when the refs weren't watching (which was most of the time.) I still can't look some of them in the face.

We ended up winning on a crazy last second touchdown, but I was still so frustrated with the refs and the opponent that I couldn't enjoy the victory. I ingenuously applauded the other team's effort as I disdainfully shook their hands, and then stormed off the field. Upon returning home, I showered and attempted to calm down so I could focus on my studies again, but my efforts proved unsuccessful, so I gave up and went to bed. I laid in bed until 3 am that night, replaying the game in my head and the mistakes I made. I kept trying to remind myself that we won, but it didn't help. I had not been that upset about anything since losing to t.u. in the last game of my college soccer career.

Luckily this week's opponent was not nearly as talented, and we coasted to an easy victory. My team was not nearly as emotionally involved this time, but the sorority chicks we played were not too happy with our domination, particularly when it came to me. "Someone do a chromosome test on #14, because there is no way she's a girl!," I heard after scoring my first touchdown. After the 2nd TD, one girl blurted out, "I didn't realize we had to play Tim Tebow tonight!," which of course got a huge reaction from the crowd (20 people), so the rest of the game their coaches kept screaming "watch Tebow.....get Tebow!!" I've never been a huge fan of Tebow because of all the media hype he gets, but I now have a new-found affinity and appreciation for Florida's QB.

Playoffs start next week. Hopefully I bring home two IM championships, or else things could get ugly. My competitiveness has been locked up for too long, and now that it has been released, there's no turning back. It's go time baby.

All Hail Mr. Nobel Peace Prize Winner

I was going to attempt to write a witty article about the farce that just occurred with B.O. being awarded this year's Nobel Peace Prize, but I think I will just let other people do the honor (I'm not that great of a writer any way.) It's not like I have anything new to add to the table. I think everyone agrees that it was unmerited.

A compilation of various articles and comments about the Norwegian Nobel Committee's decision:

How to Win the Nobel Peace

Prize In 12 Days

Let’s take a look at the president’s first 12 days in the White House according to his public schedule to see what he did to deserve a Nobel Peace Prize.

Editor's Note: Although President Obama had only been in office for 12 days before the nominations for this year's Nobel Peace prize closed the entire process actually takes a full year. According to the official Nobel Prize Web site invitation letters are sent out in September. Every year, the Norwegian Nobel Committee sends out thousands of letters inviting a qualified and select number of people to submit their nominations for the Nobel Peace Prize. The deadline to submit nominations is February 1. -- Two hundred five names were submitted for the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize, 33 of which are organizations. A short list of nominees is prepared in February and March. The short list is subject to adviser review from March until August. At the beginning of October, the Nobel Committee chooses the Nobel Peace Prize Laureates through a majority vote. The decision is final and without appeal. The names of the Nobel Peace Prize Laureates are then announced."

Barack Obama won the Nobel Peace Prize this morning. Over the last decade the only requirement to win the prize was that the nominee had to be critical of George W. Bush (see Al Gore, Mohamed El Baradei and Jimmy Carter).

President Obama has broken new ground here. Nominations for potential winners of the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize ended on February 1. The president took office only 12 days earlier on January 20.

Let’s take a look at the president’s first 12 days in the White House according to his public schedule to see what he did to deserve a Nobel Peace Prize:

January 20: Sworn in as president. Went to a parade. Partied.

January 21: Asked bureaucrats to re-write guidelines for information requests. Held an “open house” party at the White House.

January 22: Signed Executive Orders: Executive Branch workers to take ethics pledge; re-affirmed Army Field Manual techniques for interrogations; expressed desire to close Gitmo (how’s that working out?)

January 23: Ordered the release of federal funding to pay for abortions in foreign countries. Lunch with Joe Biden; met with Tim Geithner.

January 24: Budget meeting with economic team.

January 25: Skipped church.

January 26: Gave speech about jobs and energy. Met with Hillary Clinton. Attended Geithner's swearing in ceremony.

January 27: Met with Republicans. Spoke at a clock tower in Ohio.

January 28: Economic meetings in the morning, met with Defense secretary in the afternoon.

January 29: Signed Ledbetter Bill overturning Supreme Court decision on lawsuits over wages. Party in the State Room. Met with Biden.

January 30: Met economic advisers. Gave speech on Middle Class Working Families Task Force. Met with senior enlisted military officials.

January 31: Took the day off.

February 1: Skipped church. Threw a Super Bowl party.

So there you have it. The short path to the Nobel Peace Prize: Party, go to meetings, skip church, release federal funding to pay for abortions in foreign countries, party some more.

Good grief.

Article by Tommy De Seno, FOXNews.com

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The following are from my friend's status updates on Facebook:

~Scoff all you like, sir. Just remember that during that time Obama managed not only to move into the White House, but also to adopt a puppy. The man is a multi-tasking saint.

~Bill Clinton should be the most upset today.

~This award has become a joke. It lost credibility with me when Al Gore nearly won it for "fighting global warming", despite consuming more energy then most. He did "invent" the internet though...not. The fact that he won does not surprise me. Hitler gave great speeches too, so let's posthumously just give him one if that is the only qualification.

~the Nobel Committee ought to know that we've made wonderful advances in treating premature laureation.

~I used to get participation trophies in little league.

~hasn't any one heard of PRE-season MVP?!!?

~I gave all of my patients meds on time yesterday and cleaned up vomit off the floor....... can I get a Nobel Peace Prize??

~(by the editor of 12th Man Magazine): Dear Pulitzer Prize Commitee, I have a great idea for a magazine story I'd like to write. It will unite people of all colors and creeds and change the world. I haven't written an outline yet, don't have any main characters or plot line...s developed, and I likely will actually never write it, but I'd like you to consider me for this year's Pulitzer Prize. Thanks.

~I'm pretty sure it's because he has 'a dream'....I, too, believe in peace and love...and also read a mean teleprompter. I think I deserve the Nobel Peace Prize!

~Kanye West: "Yo, Obama, I'm really happy for you, I'ma let you finish, but Al Gore won one of the best Nobel Peace Prizes of all time."

Big Blue Sadness

With all the hoopla surrounding UK Basketball, I was hoping to get in on a pair of tickets to this year's Big Blue Madness, the first official practice of the year. Thousands of people camped out at Memorial Coliseum all last week so that they could be the first in line to get their tickets come Saturday morning, but I did not think that was necessary. I would just have my men (Dad and Ed) get up at 5:55 am that morning and get online to buy them via Ticketmaster. That way they get a good night's rest in a warm bed, and not have to worry about the crazy tents and frigid weather. Much to my dismay, neither my father nor my beau-hunk were able to get tickets. Rumor has it that they sold out online in 2 minutes. I've even heard 14 seconds, but who knows. Needless to say, I doubt Ticketmaster has ever had 14,000 tickets sell out to an event between 6-6:02 am. That's Kentucky Basketball for you.

I should have been dedicated enough to get up at 6 am to try on the computer myself, but I really didn't think it'd matter. All the die-hards would be camping out, and the rest of the Big Blue Nation would just get around to buying the tickets online whenever they woke up Saturday morning. Well obviously I was wrong. I know tons of people who woke up that morning to come up empty handed, just like we did. Had I known this would have been the case, I would have definitely camped out. I'm fairly certain everyone who camped out was awarded 2 tickets. I could have endured one cold, sleepless night in order to get the chance to see my Wildcats storm Rupp Arena on October 16th. Heck, Calipari and the rest of the players were even out there hanging out with the fans, serving them food, playing corn hole, and throwing a football around. What was I thinking????? Grrrrr.

Shoulda, woulda, coulda.

Yeehaw!!!

I done got me a cowboy!

A Change of Luck

I have become accustomed to not having things go my way over the past year, and I never thought much of it - I didn't pity myself or lose sleep over it because there is no such thing as luck any way. I got what I deserved. But now, as of late, I have been treading in unfamiliar waters. I have experienced the other side of luck, and dear Lord, I never want to go back.

My first test of the year was in Immunology. Immunity has always been one of those vague words that I never really grasped or understood. B cells, T cells, macrophages, neutrophils...I couldn't tell one from the other, much less their function. Then out of nowhere, I get a 73/75 on the examination (the class average was something like a 63/75). WHAT?! And then to top it off, the professor ended up accepting 2 answers (ie both "b" and "d") on 3 of the questions on the test, 2 of which happened to be the ones I missed, which put me at 75/75. But oh, I am not done. He decided to completely throw out one of the questions because it was poorly written, but if you got it right in the first place, he would not punish you, so that puts me at a 75/74 on the test. How does that happen?! Unbelievable luck, I tell you!

I was trying to think back to when this change of luck began, and I believe I have placed my finger on it: somewhere on the road between Seville and Madrid. The source: my iPod. Pressing the "shuffle" tab on your iPod is always a big risk. You never know what music the melody gods will choose for you that day, especially when your library encompasses everything from Coldplay to Casting Crowns to Chris Brown to classical music. That day, every song that was played brought a smile to my face.

I have an uncanny ability to remember songs. Not necessarily by their lyrics, or the artist, but often by the context that I first heard it. Almost every song in my music library has a story to go with it, and if you are ever with me on a road trip, you won't get more than 5 minutes of silence because every new song that comes on will be followed by an anecdote. But on that warm sunny day in Spain, I just sat back, listened to the iPod do its magic, and pondered all the memories that flooded my mind. Fortunately for you, I wrote down the songs afterward so that I could share these memories with you. iPod shuffle doesn't get much better than this.

• "Me and Mrs. Jones" by Michael Buble - The spring of 2008 will go down as one of my favorite periods of time ever. That semester was my last of undergrad, I had no more college soccer obligations, and had already been accepted into medical school. Life was good, and much of that was due to Dr. Jerry Tsai, my biochemistry professor. I had the opportunity of getting to know him well over those few months, and one day in his office we were joking about my lack of a love life (not in a creepy way, I promise), and he boldly stated that I would know the person I was supposed to be with when I got serenaded with "Me and Mrs. Jones." I had never heard the song so I went home and downloaded it, and was shocked to hear it was about an affair. Nonetheless, it was a good memory, but it has not happened yet. (Don't get any ideas, Ed.)
• "Beautiful Day" by U2 - Every time I hear this song I think of Spencer Green. I blogged about him in the past, so I won't waste your time here again, but this was the song he chose to be played at his funeral when they showed the slide show of his life. Surprisingly, this is a happy memory, because of the fact that he was able to bring so much glory to the Kingdom during his short 23 years on this earth.
• "One by One" by Enya - Two words come to mind when I hear any song by Enya: Diana Davis, with whom I had the privilege of living with one year of college. That girl would blast this music while she worked on her honors thesis (about how Wal-Mart is the root of all evil...don't get me started on that). The only time Diana didn't have Enya blaring in the background was when she took the time to watch CNN and then come into my room and bash poor ole President Bush and everything Republican. While she intimidated me the first couple of months we lived together, I learned to love her fiery political side because she made me start thinking about why I believed what I did.
• "Fidelity" by Regina Spektor - This was one of the songs that was on the CD that a certain someone made for me. This was probably the most awkward memory of my life.
• "Out of My League" by Stephen Speaks - Mike McGuire let me borrow his Stephen Speaks CD my first semester at A&M, and my roommate Alex and I would lay in my bed with this song blaring on repeat, both in tears wishing that we had someone in our lives that would think this about us. Wow.
• "Indescribable" by Chris Tomlin - Sarah Foster Gray and I became huge fans of Chris Tomlin after going to the Passion Conference during our junior year. When Tomlin came to A&M a few months later, SJ was dead set on going to his concert. She bought both of our tickets and even got a t-shirt for me. I had a good time, but she seemed so much more into it than me. I was starting to think it was because she was a better Christian than me, but then a few weeks later she spilled the beans. She was absolutely convinced that Chris Tomlin was the man she was supposed to marry. She had even written him a personal letter to tell him how much he inspired her. Much to her dismay (at the time), he never responded. Luckily, Sarah did end up getting her knight in shining armor, but his name was Kent, not Chris.

So thank you, iPod, for the change in fortune. I owe ya.

Writer's block

It's been a while. Sorry about that. Between summer vacation, where I boycotted doing anything that required any effort, and the beginning of second year, where I got sucked back into the all-consuming world of immunology, I somehow managed to not blog for over a month. I promise not to leave you hanging like this again. I fear I may lose all readership if I don't continually post, but then I remember that my blog isn't that exciting in the first place, so I snap back to the reality that no one really cares that I didn't blog once during August. I digress.

When one does not post an entry for an extended period of time, one starts to feel immense pressure for the next post. It has to be a hit, a real stinger, something to make up for your extended period of absence. So when something minute and infinitesimal comes up that one might blog about in a normal situation, one pushes it to the side in hopes of coming across the the big fish later. In the mean time, the readers are left starving. Give them the little fish, I proclaim. Little fish are better than no fish!

So that is what you will be getting here. I have nothing profound to explain to the world, but if I do not get my fingers warm again by writing about something trivial and insignificant, I may just never blog again. And what a shame that would be. The world deserves better.

Here are some topics that I have considered blogging about, but did not feel the impetus to do so at the time. But quit complaining and just eat the goldfish, ok?!

• I am now working out consistently. I run a 2.5 mile trail and then do abs about 5 times a week. I started doing it because SJ kicked my butt into gear a couple of months ago, making me get out of bed at 7:15am (during summer break, no less) to go run with her. I now go with my main squeeze almost every night, but he runs 3.5 miles in the time it takes me to run 2.5. I will catch him eventually, but I am currently content with my progress.
  
• While most people gain the "Freshman 15" during their undergrad years, I had a delayed onset. The only pounds I gained during my freshman year were due to lifting weights for the first time in my life. Muscle weights more than fat, as I am sure most people know. I gained ~10 lbs of pure, lean muscle that year, and thought I'd never go back. The muscles that used to grace my legs and abdomen, have since deteriorated and turned to flab. I gained my "M1 15" last year, but I am now on track to lose it all, so don't fret.
• I went to Spain for vacation the first week of August, and did not know what to expect. I took French in high school and college, so I knew nothing about the language or culture. I never took a Spanish history class, so I was ignorant of their days of old. Going in with no expectations ended up working out wonderfully. I would have probably been disappointed if I had, because Spanish food really isn't that good, their history is way too complex and not even their own (it's either Roman or Moorish invasion, time and time again), and everything is so expensive. But with that being said, it was beautiful. Perfect weather, unbelievable architecture, and friendly people. Sevilla was the highlight for me, although Granada's Alhambra was also incredible.
• I moved into a new apartment (my 6th residence in 6 years), and the good news is: it doesn't smell!!! But the bad news: my neighbors are extremely loud. The 3 guys above me own Rock Band, and they are very devout in their practicing to be the next star of "America's Got Talent". On top of that, I swear they either do step aerobics or have a dance party every night. I never knew 3 people could make so much noise. My neighbors to the right of me are usually quiet so I don't have much to complain about with them. Although the night they moved in, they decided to christen the place, giving me a front row seat (on the other side of the wall) to the sounds of love-making. It really does sound like the movies.
• I am going to COLLEGE STATION in 3 weekends!!! I finally am making the pilgrimage back to the Holy Land, 16 months after graduating. I get to catch the soccer game vs Portland Friday night, then the football game Saturday vs. Utah State. And Sunday will be spent in Houston with Alex (and hopefully some other friends). I don't know how I am going to fit in Layne's, Mi Cocina, Antonio's, Dixie Chicken, Freebirds, Sweet Eugene's, Rudy's, and Blue Baker into the schedule when I only get 4 meals in Aggieland, but when there is a will, there is a way. I am taking Ed with me, so he will get to experience heaven on earth for the first time. Whoop!
  
• Now that I am a seasoned veteran of medical school, and I know what to expect, I am declaring my goals for this year. I want straight A's (you really would have thought I learned my lesson last year with my multiple B's). I want to get back into shape and wear those size 6 jeans I haven't worn in 2 years. I want to eat in (which means cook) more than I eat out. And lastly, I want to grow in my relationship with the Lord and be a strong leader in CMDA.
• Following suit of every other second year medical student in the country, I am going to start diagnosing myself with random diseases anytime the smallest abnormality presents. Here is my first diagnosis: Post-Traumatic Test Disease (PTTD). This is a disorder that presents after a major examination, where one experiences depression, lack of appetite, and inability to sleep, no matter what the score achieved on the test. Typically symptoms lasts 32-48 hours post-exam experience, and results with a complete lack of productivity and happiness. PTTD is slightly contagious, and unfortunately there is no vaccine to prevent onset of disease or recurrences. The only treatments are watching movies, eating simple sugars, and working out extensively.
  

Thanks for reading, and see you soon. The drought is over.