My Funny Honey

Newlywed life has been a great joy to Jeffrey and me. It's been fun to learn each other's pet peeves, idiosyncrasies, strengths, talents, and most hated chores (Dusting for me, Mopping for Jeffrey). Through all the fun, though, sometimes we both get frustrated with each other, (just like any roommate would) because sometimes I don't do things that Jeffrey wants me to do, and sometimes Jeffrey doesn't do things that I want him to do.

One such offense Jeffrey has repeatedly committed is to "put things up" on my side of the bathroom counter. Example: Jeffrey got out some Zilactin from our medicine cabinet to put on his ulcer, then "put it up" by throwing it on my side of the counter. Same story with the dirty hand towels, the toothpaste tube, and and other little knick-knacks. After several of these little annoyances, I finally called Jeffrey out on it.

Me: "Jeffrey, can you come into the bathroom? I've got a bone to pick with you."
Jeffrey: "I'm sorry."
Me: "Jeffrey, you don't even know what I'm going to say."
Jeffrey: "I know, but whatever it is, I'm sorry."
Me: "Look, Honey, I just want you to put things up when you use them...back where they go--not on my side of the counter."
Jeffrey: "I'm sorry."

After that little lover's spat, we hugged, told each other that we love each other, and said 3 things that we like about the other one. NOT! (Who does that?) We did get over it, though, and went in the kitchen to cook dinner. A little while later I went into the bathroom to, um, powder my nose and this is what I saw:


My side


Jeffrey’s side

It appears someone had used his latent anger over our conversation to rearrange our bathroom counter…if only these powers could be harnessed for good!

Another issue we had last week was over spilt milk—honestly. Jeffrey told me in the morning as we were already halfway to school: “Oh yeah, the milk jug we bought yesterday has a crack in it.” I asked if he had taken care of it, and he said, “Well, I was going to ask you what to do about it, but I forgot.”

After explaining to Jeffrey that he doesn’t really need to ask me if it’s ok to clean up a mess, Jeffrey told me that he would have cleaned it up himself, but he wasn’t sure what to put the milk into. “All I could think of were those big bowls (Longaberger mixing bowls),” he said. At this point, I was certain that we would be the only apartment dweller’s in renting history to be kicked out due to “milk damage.” With this thought in mind, I asked Jeffrey to take care of the problem before I got home since he was to get out of class before me that day. He asked me what to put the milk in, and I told him I didn’t care. This is what he chose:



Jeffrey put the milk into 1 pitcher, 1 large glass, 1 small glass, and 1 tall pasta tupperware container. I changed my mind…I do care what he puts the milk in! Haha….my funny honey. I love that little goober.

Studying Habits, Interrupted

I haven't posted in a few days...did anyone miss me? Haha.

We had a series of tests last week and this week that took up all of my blogging time--Boo! Lucky for you readers, though, there is always seems to be some funniness that comes out of any difficult situation.

Now, I'm not trying to complain about my tests. In fact, I'm relatively happy with my grades received and I just think that complaining on a blog is silly. (I mean, we all have things to complain about...and no one wants to read anyone else's complaints!)

Suffice it to say, though, that I had to study a lot over the last few days. A lot lot.

To set up my studying story, you must know this: My brother is a big time long-distance runner and he is great at it. He is one of those people who feels refreshed after running 10 miles. (As opposed to the other 98% of the population who just feels like vomiting and/or dying after such a run.) Greg, and many other runners, always talk about the "Runner's High" that they get after they push past the pain at the beginning of their race. I've never understood the concept of this runner's high. I ran (ahem...jogged) cross-country in high school, and we used to run up to six or seven miles at a time, but I guess my runner's high point is somewhere in the great abyss beyond 6 or 7 miles. The world will never know, trust me.

This morning, though, I found my "Study-er's High." Last night I attempted to stay up late to study for my test that was this morning, but I'm not much of a night person, so I finally went to bed when I realized that studying like this....

was not going to get me an A...or a B or C.

Instead I went to bed and resolved to get up at 5:00 am to finish up before class. I lay my head down on the pillow, and then my alarm went off (that's what it felt like to me, anyway)! I grudgingly got out of the warm bed and booted up my computer for a couple hours of hard labor. I studied and studied and studied until I felt like I knew it all. Then I looked at the clock--5:15 am! I had covered 100+ power point slides and 40 pages of notes in 15 minutes!

This is the Study-er's High. It's like a superpower that only strikes a few times per year for me. It doesn't happen often, but it's amazing each time. It's like I can go into a different plateau of focus and speed study. Maybe I'm the only weirdo that this happens to, but for all of you who are in school, I wish you all at least one Study-er's High session. I love it!

And for you readers who love kitties, I leave you with this funny picture that I found on the internet that I though was hilarious but didn't know any stories I could tell with it. (Jenae Hubbard, here is a kitty for you!)

Parking Spaces and Funny Faces

Some people say that rules are meant to be followed. Others say that rules are made to be broken. Regardless of your personal stance, you must agree that some rules are just plain stupid. For example:

At our medical/dental school, parking is an issue. Because the school is boxed in on all sides, it cannot provide more spaces within walking distance for their ever-growing number of students and faculty. To remedy this situation, they made a parking lot about 2 o r 3 miles away and provided shuttle service to the building. This distant lot is in "Zone V parking" (side note: why do they always use Roman numerals for zones?). The next closest lot is "Zone IV," which is about a 5 minute walk from the school. Jeffrey and I were "lucky" to get Zone IV parking as first-year students. Many of our friends who are in Zone V are frustrated with having to operate on the shuttle's schedule, and applied to be on the waiting list for Zone IV. Yesterday, my friend Ana got the call that she could get a Zone IV permit if she brought in her Zone V permit and paid the difference. Ana asked where she should park when she brought in her permit (because if your car doesn't have a permit on it, you get a ticket), and the lady responded, "Oh, I don't know. People usually just get a ticket when they do this." That, my friends, is a stupid rule.

On another note, let us all be grateful today for the platysma muscle. I learned in Gross Anatomy that this wonderful muscle is what allows each and every one of us to make this face:

Thank goodness for the platysma. Use yours today!

My Blog Baby

The Inspiration: I watch Jon and Kate + 8. (In case you don't watch here's a brief synopsis: Jon and Kate are a couple who had a difficult time getting pregnant. Through in vitro fertilization, they had twin girls, and then decided to have one more. Instead of one more, Kate got pregnant with 6! Six little babies were born 9 months later, and thus their family became Jon and Kate + 8 kids.) I love all those little kiddies who run around saying things like "Mommy, I want to wear those gubs (gloves)!" and "Daddy, why do little girls have little boops (boobs)?" Another reason I watch is simply to imagine what I would do in that situation. I mean, 8 kids! You have to have a plan for everything. If you want to put all the kids in the car, you need a plan. If you want to cook dinner, you need a plan. If you need to go to the bathroom, you better plan it in advance and get a babysitter!

The Problem: Every time I watch that show, I want to have kids (not eight kids, mind you--just one or two or four...the number does seem to get higher every time I watch, though.) Unfortunately, Jeffrey and I are both in professional school right now, so it's not really the optimum time for baby-making. (Not to mention, we are young little newlyweds who can barely manage to keep up with the household chores!) Nevertheless, I feel the strong urge to nurture something. Since having a baby at this time would be ill-advised, I naturally went to the next best thing--a dog. I've begged and begged, but it turns out that our apartment complex charges millions of dollars as well as a pledge to give them your firstborn in exchange for allowing a dog to live on their property...and that's if the dog doesn't mess anything up! I was still ready to go forward with that idea, but Jeffrey (my dear and logical husband) said no. And he was right. Ouch, that hurts to type. So, I again lowered my standards--how about a plant? Jeffrey (my dear and logical and proud-of-being-right-on-the-dog-issue husband) again told me no. I think this time it was simply out of spite. He seems to think I will kill this plant just like I killed all my other plants in Abilene. He doesn't think I can turn over a new leaf! (I apologize for that joke.)

The solution: In conclusion, Jon and Kate made me want babies, but I can't have them right now. Instead of a baby I wanted a dog, but Jeffrey said no. Instead of a dog, I asked for a plant, and Jeffrey again said no. So in lieu of those things, I have decided to relieve my need for nurturing on the blog. My baby blog. Isn't it cute?! I love you baby blog. And a blog is the best baby ever, anyway! No clean up, no cost, no stretch marks (although someday, maybe, carpal tunnel), and no dirty diapers. My blog baby is better than any of those real babies anyway. (But I still want one...don't tell.)

It's Almost Here.

If you are a true movie-lover, or if you have a grand sense of history, or if you like the ultimate in manliness and action, or if you simply like thrilling entertainment, then you need to go to this site RIGHT NOW!

http://movies.yahoo.com/movie/1809961074/video/9655524

It will change your life. You heard it here first.

Otherwise, I am currently recuperating from my test week last week. All tests were passed with satisfactory marks, so I'm happy. However, I'm slightly un-happy because hurricane Ike is supposed to blow through San Antonio this weekend, bringing lots of rain and possible flooding. They said that it rained so much last year after a hurricane that the medical school lecture halls were flooded - yikes!

Also this week I came to the realization that it's one thing to locate and palpate structures on a dead body, and yet quite another to locate and palpate structures on a living human being. You can't hurt dead people, but you sure can hurt living people. While searching for some lymph nodes today in class, I accidentally pushed in too far and set off a choking/coughing spasm...and everyone turned around and looked at me...and of course, I turned bright red. At least I looked cool while doing it...oh wait, I looked like a total fool.

But it's ok - I'm going to practice finding Lauren's cervical (neck) lymph nodes this weekend. If she calls anyone coughing, crying, or screaming, I promise that I didn't hurt her on purpose. I'm just a doctor in training.

Until next time...

Good night, and good luck

--Jeffrey D. Edwards

Lectures and Quizzes and Tests, Oh My!

It is finished.

(Gross Anatomy Test 1, that is.)

Today we spent four grueling hours taking our first anatomy practical and test. Wow. That was fun. Luckily, there were only a few questions that I read and thought to myself: "Yup. I remember that word from the notes....but I don't remember anything else besides the word. No definition. No other words that were with it. Hmm. Probably should have studied it a little more."

The most fun of the whole day for me was when I walked over to our testing room 30 minutes early for the test--thinking that I would be the first one there. Imagine my surprise when I opened the door and saw basically my entire class that had arrived before me...so as not to be late. Hmm...shouldn't the universe implode or something when that many Type A personalities are in the same room together?

In other news, taunting teenagers are trying new tactics to torture teachers. (Try saying that one five times fast!) True story: Last Friday, my mom, the high school English teacher, realized after her last class that several items had been stolen out of her classroom, including a decorative plaque and the very clock off the wall. To any teens, convicts, or those just still in touch with their inner child/thief, I have a few questions for you.

#1: Why?
#2: Why a clock? I understand stealing money, but a clock?
#3: Why?

When I told some of my dental school friends about this crime spree, one of them told me that when she was in high school, some of her acquaintances would throw away one of their teacher's staplers on a weekly basis. Which leads me to wonder--was I that annoying when I was a teenager? (Mom and Dad, please don't respond on the blog if the answer is yes--the blog is not a place for airing our family's dirty laundry. But if I was that annoying--I apologize.)

By the way, have you read Jeffrey's last posting? How sweet is my husband?! I'm going to keep him...

A Day to Celebrate

I would like to take this opportunity to say to my wife...

Happy Anniversary!

On this day 6 months ago, Lauren and I exchanged vows to love each, care for each other, and support each other for the rest of our lives (and our life together). I can honestly say that this has been the happiest 6 months of my life. As cliche as it sounds, I have never been happier than I am right now.

We have had so much change over the past 6 months, and yet I have not once felt overwhelmed or overly-stressed because I knew that Lauren was always by my side. Every day I am reminded of how blessed I am to be in this relationship. I am so thankful that Robert and Jenny agreed to let me marry her, and that I had my families' complete support when I decided to ask her to marry me. I am also very thankful to our friends, especially those guys who helped me propose and helped to keep me calm on our wedding day.

So to all of Lauren's and my family and friends, I would like to say thank you. Thank you for the love and support you gave to us as we began our adventure together 6 months ago, and thank you for the love and support that you continue to give to us as we continue our journey today and tomorrow.

And thank you to my wonderful wife Lauren. Thank you for your love and support, for the food that you make for me every day, and especially for your undying devotion to me. I love you!

Until next time...

Good night, and good luck.

--Jeffrey D. Edwards

P.S. To any guys out there reading this, I'm sorry this was so sappy, but I really wanted to write this. If you're married, you understand. If not, you'll get there someday.

Revelations

Great truths have been revealed to me in the past few days. Great truths that I feel compelled to share.

Revelation #1: I am not Michael Phelps.

Seriously, guys--I'm not. Here's how I know for sure: Michael Phelps looks like this after breaking a world record time for swimming 8 laps

I look like this after swimming 2 laps in about 3 minutes (and they weren't even real laps--they were little weenie indoor-gym swimming pool laps).

Yes, sad but true, some misguided good intention inside my mind suggested that I begin working out again (after a year-long respite) and I decided to give swimming a try. It looked fun, easy to do, seemed less monotonous than step after step on a treadmill...looks can be deceiving, though. All in all I probably spent about 10 minutes actually swimming, 5 minutes rubbing my chlorine-irritated eyeballs, and 20 minutes "resting"/gasping for air. I call that one good 35 minute work out! I'm going to give myself a few days of rest before I submit myself to that torture again, but I know that I'll be back because I've already caught myself looking in the mirror to see if my arms have gained any definition yet. (They haven't...yet.)

Revelation #2: The cause of my neck pain is my head.

Dentists are notorious for having poor posture. In fact, most of them have to wear some sort of back brace, hand brace, wrist splint, or go to physical therapy at some point in their career to correct some problem caused by bad posture. It isn't always just the dentist's fault, though. I mean, let's face it--teeth are small, and cavities are smaller, and what do we do when we need to see something small? We lean over and get really really close to it--BAAAAD for the back, dentists. In an effort to combat this problem in the profession with a little proactive education, our professors brought in a physical therapist this morning to talk about posture. Since we all sit at a desk/computer most weekdays studying, the teacher asked those of us who have experienced back or neck pain since starting school to raise their hands. All hands raised. He went on to explain that the average human head weighs 13 to 16 pounds (basically, as much as a big bowling ball), and that any time we lean our head/neck forward, that weight so far in front of us is guaranteed to give us pain somewhere in the neck or back area. The rest of the time he was talking I tried to evaluate my "head position." I have determined that this is how I usually sit at my computer:

Why, you ask, am I sitting like the Hunchback of Notre Dame? I don't know. It seemed like a good idea at the time. And thus, I learned why my neck and shoulder feel so sad every day after class.

Blessed Assurance

As I prepare to enjoy my day off from school on Labor Day, I keep coming back to a song we sang yesterday in church. It is a simple song, and certainly one that I have been singing since I was a 2-year-old standing on my daddy's knees in church. But it is so powerful, so reassuring, and so comforting - especially in times of uncertainty (Hurricane Gustav) or unfamiliarity (new town, new school, new friends), as well as any other situation one might encounter in life.

Read the words. Let your mind examine them, but let your heart embrace them.

Enjoy.


Blessed Assurance
Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine!
Oh, what a foretaste of glory divine!
Heir of salvation, purchase of God,
Born of his spirit, washed in his blood.

Perfect submission, perfect delight,
Visions of rapture now burst on my sight;
Angels descending bring from above
Echos of mercy, whispers of love.

Perfect submission, all is at rest;
I in my savior am happy and blest;
Watching and waiting, looking above,
Filled with his goodness, love in his love.

This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Savior all the day long;
This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Savior all the day long.


Until next time...

Good night, and good luck

--Jeffrey D. Edwards