Nobody seems to know where Broken Bow is.

I'm not just talking about friends in Colorado or my family in Seattle. I mean like even folks from Nebraska don't know where it is. This worries me, because if people don't know where I live, they will surely never visit me. Even if people do figure out where I am, what are the chances they will fly to NE then drive 3 hours and 45 minutes from the airport to get to Broken Bow? I've got to figure out something appealing about the place that may draw people there (besides that I live there, that clearly won't be enough). I could direct people here, but my family may be scared away by the song, not to mention the horses and cowboy hats. I also doubt the Christian motorcycle rally on June 1st will really tempt them. I guess I could buy lots of cool stuff for our house so people will visit. A plasma television, a hot tub? I still doubt it will be enough. Visitors were scarce even when I lived in Greeley (which most of my family considered rural btw).

Even if you never visit me, at least let me tell you where Broken Bow is. It is smack in the middle of nowhe-- I mean Nebraska. It's actually not too far from being the center of the U.S. Keith will try to tell you it is in Western, NE, but I have proof that he's wrong:



For those of you who've asked, this
is where we will be working. As well as this hospital.

We'll be moving in June 25th. Keep us in mind next time you make vaca plans!

Goodbye Raising Arizona,

Hello The Heart of the Game. This is my new all-time favorite movie ever. And it's not just because it was filmed in Seattle. The documentary follows the Roosevelt Rough Riders, a AAA female high school basketball team, through several seasons of play. Roosevelt was in my conference in high school, which adds to the coolness of the movie for me, but that's hardly what makes it great.

The film starts out documenting what could be any old high school girls team, and it follows them as they become extraordinary under the guidance of award winning coach Bill Resler. Along the way you get a glimpse into the psyche of the athletes as well as the brilliance of the coach. Through one particular character the film gets into some interesting social and political issues that are specific to female athletics. In addition to great personal stories, the film is loaded with captivating game and practice sequences, buzzer beaters, and heated locker room pep talks. It's like Hoosiers, only better, because it's real people instead of actors, and the athletes are chicks.

The chick thing may not make it better for everyone, but it does for me. I absolutely love how far female athletics have come. If I were raised just a single generation ago, I never would have had the opportunity to play organized sports. Can you imagine? You either had to be a spectator, or be on the sideline where you jumped up and down in a mini skirt waving pom-poms around. Not to offend any avid cheerleaders (or wearers of mini-skirts for that matter), but for me there is no comparison between cheerleading and the physicality and team dynamics involved in competitive sports. If I grew up when my mom did, not only would I not have fit in, but I would have missed out on the one thing that I have gotten more joy and opportunity from than anything else -- I'm talking about volleyball of course. Also I would be depressed.

One more thing. I'm sure everyone remembers this ad:




Sure, like all ads, it's geared towards selling products, but the statements the girls make are based on actual data published by (among others): the National Cancer Institute, the National Institutes of Health and the Ms. Foundation. Not only are sports super fun, they're also good for you!

So the movie's cool, and the only thing that could make it cooler if it followed a women's volleyball team, but you should still check it out.

p.s. I hope I don't ruin it for people by hyping it up too much. You should remember that I'm a bit of a feminist/jock type person, so my opinion may be slanted.

Skinny Pants are Out?

One thing I like about living in rural America is that no one seems to have any idea what is "in" and what is "out" when it comes to fashion. This allows me to wear pretty much whatever I want. This is good, because apparantly, after just one year of living in Wray, Co, I am already out of date. When Keith and I visited the big city last week, I was so excited to see "skinny jeans" on display that I had to try a pair on. They instantly brought me back to the mid '80s when my sister and I used to sew our jeans to a taper that fit our calves as tightly as possible while still allowing enough room to barely slip/tug/force them past our heel.

Then I read this. At this point I'm totally confused about what type of pants I am supposed to be wearing, but what I do know is that I am quite happy with my skinny jeans. While I also appreciate the baggy pants, I like the form fit of the skinnies. I also find it easier to wear flats with them because I don't have to find the perfect sized heel to wear with the long, baggy pants. In this manner, not only do I avoid the tripping, heel catching etc., but I will also avoid the following:

So no matter what the trends do, I plan to wear these skinny jeans as long as they have the tensile strength to form fit to my skinny ass.

Home Again

Keith and I made it back to Wray yesterday. All in all it took us 12 hours to get here. That is one of the major downsides to living off the map. I have to say, though, that I am glad to be home.

The game at Fenway was great, but the true highlight of the trip for me was
definitely getting to catch up with some friends from medical school. Thanks Jonathon and Scott for the town tour, the yummy home cooked meal, and of course the rousing game of "Loaded Questions". We may have to purchase one of our own, as we have a pathetic supply of board games, and there is little else to do in Broken Bow, and, of course, it's the best game ever. True to our nerd selves, we also found the visit to the ether dome to be a delightful experience.

I've already published one pretentious post this month, so I will refrain from an elaborate discussion regarding the ethics of using someone else's handicap sticker, but I will say that if something makes you belly laugh it can't be too unethical (principal of amusement?).


Also thanks to Andy and Sarah for not only visiting with us, but for letting us hold their cute little baby. I especially appreciated that you didn't take her away from me the second she started crying. Babies are constantly crying when I try to hold them, and moms are constantly whisking them away from me thereby cutting into my scarce baby cuddling time.

We are very much looking forward to when each of you come visit us in Nebraska!

Fortunately for us, our house is up for demolition.

Keith and I became new puppy parents this year. We are really good and loving them, but not so good at training them or at keeping them from slowly destroying our home. This turns out to be sort of okay, since the house is set for demolition in about two months. Unfortunately some of the items we would like to take with us are suffering as well.




















So, yes Kat, lab puppy does = everything destroyed.

And who the hell chews on a random spot in the wall anyway?

Lord help them if they don't get this out of their system by the time we move into our new home.

No Itineraries

I'm definately a fan of playing it by ear when it comes to vaca. So far it seems to be working out. In just over 24 hours we've already had a great time with friends over a superb homemade meal, biked through many of the Frederick Law Olmsted landscaped parks and gardens, seen much of the freedom trail, and taken in a great game between the Detriot Tigers and the Boston Red Socks at historic Fenway park.

Pretty gardens





Give me a fucking break people, there are like 12 empty cans just down the street.





History (you know, one if by land two if by horse...
or something like that





Holy crap, we didn't even realize Matsuzaka would be pitching (I promise that's him). He pitched a complete game in the 7-1 win.





Don't let 'em tell you it's hard to get tickets at the last minute.

Living Your Ideals

I feel like I have a lot of ideals. I think this is a generally a good thing. The problem, though, is that all too frequently I find myself falling short of my ideals, and those very ideals end up crippling me with guilt. There are so many damn issues to worry about, how can one person make a difference, and should they even bother trying?

Here are some examples of things I wish I could change.

I value the environment, and I am constantly fretting over the massive amounts of waste I see going on around me every day. Like, why the hell does our neighborhood grocer insist on double bagging a single milk carton? And am I really the only one in the entire town who tries to bring my canvas bag with me when I shop? Does anyone but me care how much fossil fuel is wasted every year just se we can get kiwis from Chile in the winter time?

But despite my observations, am I the perfect eco-friendly consumer? Of course not. In the little town we live in there are no recycling facilities, so rather than continue to save up our recycling and load it into the car each month for our regular trip to the city, I now just toss everything into the garbage. It's just easier. Just this morning I drank from a styrofoam cup. Oh, the shame I feel even writing these words.

Here's another example: After listening to a story on This American Life, I think to myself "Are you kidding me? A kid can be brought to the U.S. from Mexico as a child, get her entire education here, even go to a University only to be told that she will never be able to go to realize her lifelong dream of going to medical school and practicing as an Obstetrician because she does not have a green card? (This same kid is working two jobs and commuting 2 hours each way in order to put herself through school.) How is that the land of opportunity?" The tears roll down my face, but what can I do?

I hate the inequality of social classes that exists in the U.S., but I have some Aveda hair products and top of the line road bike.

I am looking into getting my pilots license even though I hate the way we waste fossil fuels.

This just scratches the surface. I hear things in the news everyday that make me want to jump out of my chair and go knock on my senator's door to demand they help rectify injustices. I think to myself "What?! They are keeping all those people in Guantanamo just because they pissed someone off, and that someone decided to make a profit by turning them in? Not only is there no proof of wrong doing, but there aren't even any charges?. Our president is flat out lying to us about how all the prisoners there are Al Qaeda insurgents?! He's ignoring the Geneva Conventions AND Habeus Corpus?!! People know it's all lies and yet we are still keeping people there and and torturing them?!!!" Oh the rage, the disappointment, and ultimately the impotence that I feel.

Am I alone here?

Mahatma Gandhi said "You must be the change you want to see in the world"

I may be unique in my overly inflated sense of guilt and responsibility, but I don't think I'm alone in wanting to live in a way that affects social change positively. I still have no idea how to fix most of the world's problems, but I do feel like Gandhi's words are comforting and somewhat empowering.

I know what I'm about to type next will sound trivial in the face of all that's wrong with the world, but here's what I've got.

For the environment, I plan to can my own fruit and pasta sauces (actually my eco-conscious sis gave me this idea). She says it only takes her a day or two to can enough food for the entire year. Also, she can buy local produce because she just buys what is in season. Bingo. Just solved two major environmental problems with one fruit cellar.

For the wrongly imprisoned people? The struggling young students with no hope of ever realizing their dreams? The millions of gay citizens who self-righteous, religiously motivated persons continue to discriminate against for no particular reason other than they are made uncomfortable by the gay lifestyle? (I know, I hadn't even gotten around to introducing this idea in my earlier rantings, but I'm on a roll.) Well, frankly, I don't know. Even if I were willing to leave my career and dedicate myself fully to one of these causes, I wouldn't know where to start. The best I can do is embrace my local immigrant (not literally), frown when people utter homophobic comments, and, of course, stock up on produce when it's in season.

Going to Boston

Keith and I are leaving for Boston tomorrow. We have exactly three friends there, and we are very much looking forward to seeing them.

Keith will like this aspect of the city. Or at least he would if it were up and running yet.

We're actually going for a medical conference, but we should have a few days to take in the sights.

Pics when we get back.

They took away my television

I spent about 20 minutes yesterday watching the previews on the pay per view channel. Why would I do that you ask? Well, the satellite wasn't working for some reason, and I really felt like watching television. A bit later my husband came home and nonchalantly told me: "oh, I cancelled our satellite subscription today".

Panic stricken.

Speechless.

You see, even though I have a license to practice medicine, I spend three days a week alone at home, and all the company I have is the likes of David Bromfield and Angelo Surmelis from HGTV. They have become like family to me. My husband suggested I use my laptop to keep me company. Hence the blog. And this picture:


We need a lot of furniture for our new house, and I like this table. Wouldn't those high chairs squish your knees up against the bottom of the table though?


Actually, I already had a blog on my myspace page, but I decided I didn't like it - the myspace page that is. This happened when a psycho ex-boyfriend sent me a friend request out of the blue. His creepy little photo was up in the corner. When I say psycho ex-boyfriend I don't mean like he called me too many times at home after we broke up, I mean psycho like he has the letters S-H-A-L carved into his forearm (too much of a wuss to finish the whole name I guess). He also threatened to eat rat poison if I broke up with him (unfortunately he never did).

So anyway, this is my first post.