For he's a jolly good fellow

Last Saturday was Nick Appreciation Day. For you to, well, appreciate it, let me start with the backstory. I think I may have mentioned once or twice how much I love my husband. He's just the best. I think I may also have mentioned how tough intern year was for me. One day during that bleak November, Nick announced "Beth Appreciation Day." I don't remember exactly what we did, but I'm pretty sure it involved shopping, him cooking me dinner, him rubbing my feet, and us watching a movie of my choosing (probably 13 Going on 30). In all seriousness, the fact that he made such an effort to make me feel special when work was beating me down so, so badly really did lift my spirits immensely. And because, as Nick likes to say, our marriage is a competition, I couldn't let him be the only one making sacrifices for the other's happiness. Hence was borne the tradition of Nick vs. Beth Appreciation Days.
We started with lunch at Pei Wei, where we shared Nick's favorites, chicken lettuce wraps and sweet and sour chicken. Then we walked around the mall to kill some time before our movie started. This is where Nick let me sneak some Beth activity; I got a pretty ribbon-embellished blue cardigan from Banana Republic. And Nick got a couple T-shirts, too. (Yes, I do take responsibility for his addiction to BR cotton.)
Then we saw the much anticipated Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. For those of you like me who don't follow the gaming and/or comic industry closely or even at all, let me give some more backstory. This movie is apparently based on a comic book. It has gotten great reviews but overall flopped at the box office because it lacks a target audience; there just aren't enough comic and gaming nerds to compete with the teenage girl buying power backing Zac Effron. But that is neither here nor there. Nick was excited to see this movie. For me, it was... interesting. Very different, very visually engaging with the comic-book style overlays (Wam, Pow, floating hearts, etc) and the Matrix-meets-Nintendo fight scenes. But the novelty wore off to me about halfway through. Nick liked it quite a bit, though. So if you're a closet gamer and/or comic junkie, go eat your heart out.
So there you have it. Three cheers for Nick, and a halfway-enthusiastic thumb up for the first hour of Scott Pilgrim. I'll be cashing in my next Beth Appreciation Day soon since I'm heading to a general medicine ward service later this week (eek!). Hasta.

Decisions, decisions

Today is my last day of freedom, for a little while at least. No more weekends off next month, so I have to squeeze every last drop of weekendiness from today. Here's the plan.
1) Go to church. Check.
2) Catch up on emails. Check.
3) Eat dessert. Check and check again. Banana cupcakes with cream cheese icing AND ice cream with homemade hot fudge sauce. (Come over sometime and eat my hot fudge sauce; you will never buy the jarred stuff again. Moving on.)
4) Shop. Check as of yesterday. Banana Republic had a few great finds on the clearance rack, and Nick let me have a short interlude during Nick Appreciation Day (more on that later this week).
5) Cook. Check. Carrot soup, which I made today to eat Tuesday because everyone knows soup is better if you let it sit overnight so the flavors can meld, but I'm going out for dinner tomorrow so will be unable to eat or cook said soup tomorrow evening. Therefore, I cooked soup tonight to eat Tuesday.
6) Work out. Half a check. I walked Izzy this morning but am trying to find my motivation for some Pilates tonight. Maybe if I do Pilates, I can reward myself with more hot fudge sauce. That's how it works, right?
7) Read. Check, like three times over just this afternoon. Bible (I finally finished Job, woohoo!). How to Talk to a Liberal if you Must (Ann Coulter). One Day (David Nicholls).
8) Blog. Almost check. This is the part where I announce the winner of the Shoe War from last week. In a stunning eleventh-hour upset, these lovely cream Cole Haan pumps won out thanks to a fab deal on ebay.
More than you wanted to know about my day, huh? Coming blog attractions this week: Fed's bridal shower, Nick Appreciation Day, and new recipes.

Fountain of youth

For hundreds of years, mankind has dedicated too much energy and brainpower toward discovering the secret of eternal youth. That's way too hard. Instead, let me give you a personal, hard-earned lesson on a quick and easy method to feel really, really old.
1) Start by sleeping in so that you have to rush through your morning routine. This will guarantee kinda smudgey eyeliner and not-quite-perfectly straightened hair, which will highlight the forming wrinkles over your forehead and by your eyes. Wow. You're old.
2) Wear fabulously cute but impractical shoes. This will ensure your tootsies feel each and every step of the 10,000 you'll walk up and down the halls at work, which will in turn remind you how your feet didn't hurt when you wore those shoes a gagillion years ago when you bought them. Wow. You're old.
3) Spend all day at work. Start yawning at 3pm. This will remind you how you used to stay up until 3am and still be ready for more. Wow. You're old.
4) This next step is key... Spend two hours doing college athlete physicals. Seeing spry young whipper-snappers who are physically capable of doing things you can't even dream (like run 30 miles just because) will bring to mind how thin and fit and tan you used to be. Emphasis on past tense. For good measure, inadvertently use slang that was cool when you were their age (a decade ago!!) but is now obsolete, like "clutch." Fight back the urge to tell them to enjoy it (meaning their youth) while they can. Wow, you're like ancient.
5) And the clutch move is going to bed before 10pm. I know this may sound difficult at first, but think about the trying day you just finished and the equally trying day ahead! You'll be yawning in no time, and off to dreamland you go at 9:43pm on the dot. This seals your entry into the class of the prematurely elderly.
Yeah, I'm old, and yeah, I know it. No shame. Well it's almost my bedtime. Good-night, all.

Persuedsive

I am in love. And I'm not talking about a man, wonderful as Nick is. I'm talking about shoes. I try to be practical, but I just can't get suede out of my head. I know, Houston is a rainy place, and suede reacts to puddles just like the Wicked Witch of the West. But I can't help it. Like I said, I'm in love, and there's no stopping me.
First there's the cognac Anne Klein knee-high boots.
Or maybe the grey Sofft knee-high boots.
Or compromise with a suede-accent purple Cole Haan heel.

Please, please click the links. I couldn't figure out how to get the pictures on the blog without getting myself hunted down by intellectual property lawyers. And oh, you will swoon. I'd bet a dollar I'll own one of these by the end of the week. What's the point of moonlighting if I don't get to be a little impractical every now and then? I mean, I have ten whole months left in Nashville. I promise I'll wear them every day, Nick, really! I guess we shall see...

Battle of the sexes, part deux

Remember a long, long time ago when I took you on a little journey into the his vs. hers approach to getting dressed? Well, here's a little jaunt even deeper into the Scholz psyche - choosing what we will eat for dinner. (Insert dramatic music here.) This conversation usually occurs when I'm driving home from work in the evenings.

Beth: Hi. I'm on my way home. Work was gross. What do you want to eat for dinner?

Nick: I dunno. Food.

Beth: I was thinking maybe I could make that pear and prosciutto pizza I've been wanting to try for a while.

Nick: Uhh... OK.

Beth: Or we could defrost the lasagna from the freezer. And we have that loaf of bread, so I could do garlic bread. And I could stop and pick up broccoli from the store.

Nick: Or there's always Red Robin.

Beth: Nooooo, we always go to Red Robin.

Nick: We don't always go to Red Robin.

Beth: We went there last month.

Nick: That was a month ago.

Beth: Well, what do you want for dinner?

Nick: (Frustrated sigh.) I just told you, but you don't want that. So you pick.

Beth: But I want to have something you want. Or I could do -

Nick: There you go with your options again. Always gotta have more options.

Beth: (Frustrated sigh). We could just do sandwiches and cereal.**

Nick: Why don't you like sandwiches?

Beth: I do like sandwiches, just not your kind of sandwiches. I like hot sandwiches, not boring turkey sandwiches.

Nick: Well, if you put mayo on your sandwich it wouldn't be so dry, and it would taste better.

Beth: But I don't like mayo.

Nick: Well, whose fault is that?

Beth: How come all you ever eat is turkey sandwiches?

Nick: I eat cereal for breakfast. I don't want cereal.

Beth: Well, I like cereal like you like turkey sandwiches.

Nick: Just make your dumb pizza. I know that's what you want to do.

Beth: Yes, but I want you to want it, too.

Nick: If I don't like it I'll just eat a sandwich.

Beth: OK. I'll be home soon. Love you.

Nick: Love you, too.

The end.

**When the cupboards are bare, Nick defaults to a turkey sandwich. Beth does not like boring turkey sandwiches. Beth defaults to cereal. Nick only likes cereal for breakfast. It is startling how often we have this exact conversation. Like every week.

Trading places

Sigh. Mike and Kristen are gone. But we crammed a lot into their short visit. We started with a short scenic tour of Nashville, ending with dinner at Bread & Co, which is the new love of Kristen's life.
Tuesday morning Mike accompanied me on my morning commute through primo "rush hour." The quotation marks here indicate sarcasm; if you've seen both Houston and Nashville traffic you'd understand. (The whole reason for them to come was for Mike to have a second look day, kinda like a follow-up interview, with the neonatology department to help him decide where to do his fellowship. ) We spent that afternoon completing our driving tour of the city and then tried a new restaurant called Burger Up. Mmm, it was yuhm-my. The regular, turkey, quinoa, and salmon burgers all got two enthusiastic thumbs up from our entourage, but the highlight of the experience was (yes, folks, this really exists) the Krispy Kreme doughnut bread pudding. We then funnelled our sugar high energy into a rousing game of Apples to Apples that really came down to a battle of the sexes in which {Mike and Nick} and {Kristen and I} tried to figure out and pick each others' cards just so they wouldn't win.
Wednesday was a full work day for me, so the others ate breakfast at the Loveless Cafe without me. Nick doesn't know it, but we're in a fight because he didn't bring me any biscuits. And the sky literally rained on my parade, so we didn't go to the lighted Chihuly glass exhibit at Cheekwood Garden like I'd planned. And dinner was not quite the glorious success for which I'd hoped, either. In summary, homemade sweet potato gnocchi are OK but not good enough to justify the hours of prep time. And how did I not know about Mike's white food rule?!** But I think he found the chocolate mint ice cream pie tasty enough to compensate for the spinach dip and ricotta-filled zucchini.
Sadly, Mike and Kristen are now back in Houston, but probably not for long. How sad will it be if/when our moving trucks pass each other on I-40, going opposite directions between Houston and Nashville! Now we just have to start convincing them to buy our house.





**He won't eat white foods. At all. White sauce, cream cheese, sour cream, ricotta, etc. Can you imagine life without cream cheese?!

Weekend warrior

Whew! Was I ever glad to get back to work today, where I can rest up from my weekend! But seriously, I did actually exert more energy on my days off than I did in clinic this morning. Doing what, you ask? Well, I hope you've got a tasty beverage because here we go.
First off, I worked out Friday morning for the first time in a couple weeks, which means that my workout Sunday was extra painful. And no, I don't have a good medical explanation for why the second workout hurts more than the first. However, I think Sunday's pain was more secondary to my silly decision to take both Izzy and Dallas for a walk all by my lonesome. Overall, they do so well, but they fall into a vicious positive feedback cycle of worked-uppedness when they see another dog that is exponentially worse than when they're separate.
After said walk and workout, Sunday was a mad, mad whirlwind of cleaning because... Mike and Kristen come today! Two days prior to company, Nick and I always repeat the same ritual of whipping our house into shape, and much to my delight, I have fooled most of you into thinking my house looks like that all the time! My biggest accomplishment this go-round was sifting through a hundred or so medical journals and clipping only the one article from each I am most likely to read during a spell of motivation. I then promptly filled that hard-earned space on the bookshelves with the stacks of books that had previously been piled next to the bookshelves. I didn't make it to my desk, which has always been and always will be my Achilles heel of cleanliness. Like Scarlet O'Hara, I will just think about it tomorrow.
I might have made it to the desk this time, were it not for an overwhelming desire to scrapbook after seeing Angela's albums last week. I completely strained my right brain, but I managed to finish a couple pages. If you promise not to laugh, I'll share one.

Well, that's about it for today, folks. Maybe I'll tackle the desk in the next 20 minutes before the Stewarts arrive. Or maybe not.

An elephant never forgets

I think I promised photos of roommate reunion. Let's see if the photo uploader is behaving today. There was the dance party, which consisted of Angela dancing, Cass twisting, and me spinning in circles. Also lots of cooking and lounging. It felt good to laugh that much. I can't hardly wait for next year, ladies!

Smoke gets in my eyes

My darling husband turns 32 years old today. Whew, that is a LOT of birthday candles. I think he's had a good birthday. I mean, he did get a fabulous present from yours truly. I think I've already told the following story to everyone who ever reads this blog, but humor me here.

I had the amazingly, wonderfully, brilliantly brilliant idea to get Nick a meat smoker for his birthday. I mean, the boys loves his grill like Izzy loves a squeaky ball; they just can't get enough. So what would be better than a meat smoker? Perfect. So I did my research and picked out a reasonably priced yet sufficiently high-quality model, which was scheduled to arrive August 11. I know, I lack the foresight I possessed prior to residency. Sue me. No, wait, please don't sue me. My malpractice can't handle it. Anyhoo...

I talked to Nick last Saturday morning when I was in Dallas rollin' with my girls. He said, "I don't know if I should tell you this but I will." (Me, silent) "I think my birthday present came yesterday because there was a big box on the front porch." (Me, still silent) "And it wasn't inside another box." Bummer! "But I like it a lot and I'm really excited to use it." Slightly less of a bummer. But still, I wanted to see his reaction

Nick hammered and screwed and finagled last night (picture cartoon cloud of dust with just arms and legs sticking out) and got it assembled. Then he went through all the trouble of seasoning it way too early this morning so he could cook something in it for his birthday dinner tonight. Please don't judge me for letting my husband cook his own birthday dinner. He wanted to. Mesquite smoked pulled pork. Mmm, mmm, good. With homemade barbecue sauce. Double mmm, mmm, good. I made mac 'n' cheese along with grilled bacon-wrapped asparagus. Could it get any better? Why yes, it could. Chocolate cake with 32 sparkler candles on top.

Happy birthday, honey. I love you!

Now and then

Oh boys and girls. I'm fresh off the plane back from Texas, and I already can't wait for RR3. The whole thing was just what I needed. We can go a year without seeing each other or even talking, but as soon as we're together it's just like old times. Even though our current everyday lives share basically no commonalities, we still get along as well as back in the day at our green-carpeted apartment in Waco.

Angela lives in Waco and works as a fully licensed CPA (woohoo!). She has a blog, too, which is mostly about scrapbooking but partly about her life in general. She just gave me a shout out for her favorite post of mine; since one good turn deserves another, here is my favorite page of hers.

Cassandra lives in McKinney (north side of Dallas) and has just temporarily retired from teaching 5th grade to stay at home with her still-gestating baby. She does not have a blog, but she recently joined the 21st century by signing up for Facebook, which she assures us will result in posting pictures of afore-mentioned still-gestating infant after his birth.

So that's the cast and crew. Now the story.

The weekend essentially consisted of an incessant stream of hyperverbosity punctuated by pauses just long enough to chew and swallow the massive amounts of food we cooked, including pizza rolls just for old times' sake. And time spent poring over wedding pictures. (Nick's exact words upon hearing about this particular point: "Praise the Lord I'm not going to be there!") And gushing at baby Mason's room, ready and waiting for him. There may also have been an impromptu dance party. Cassandra's husband went so far as to pull a double-header at the movie theater so we could have the house to ourselves all day Saturday, but he did make sure we gave her very pregnant self a nice long nap that afternoon. The photo uploader is being stupid right now, but more pics will follow soon. I hope.

Prologue

My elective rotation has given me the luxury of weekends off. Can you even imagine? Two days off in a row every week for a whole month! Aaaahh! What do I even do with myself?
This post will eventually get there. But first the backstory.
My college roommates Angela and Cassandra are two of my bestest-estest friends. Ever. Period. They've loved me since way back when, even when I wasn't the effervescent ball of lovability I am today. But that's not the point. The point is that we had the luxury of frequent visits and time together during my med school years because of our weddings. Dave + Angela went first followed by Nick + Beth after first year, then Sean + Cassandra after third year. Faced with the prospect of impending social isolation in residency, I had the brilliant beyond brilliant idea for a roommate reunion not attached to a wedding shortly before my graduation. Well we all planned it, but I think it was my idea. Again, that's not the point.
What I've been trying to get to with the last 186 words is that after 2 years, we were long overdue for roommate reunion part II, aka RR2. Since Cassandra is approximately 14 months pregnant, she got the swing vote (I don't think that term means what I want it to mean, but eh, whatever.); therefore, Angela and I shall trekk to the exotic far-away land of the northern Dallas suburbs. And this, faithful readers, is where I'm spending my first weekend of glorious freedom.