Bigger or Better: Life outside of Texas

Way back 2 weeks ago (hey, I did say these posts would be sporadic) I flew up to Seattle for the third time in my life to visit someone I'd never met before. Namely this guy. You can tell he likes my hair. And that he's pretty wiggly. And downright adorable. It had to be a super-short visit, because school has put more of a restriction on the flexibility of my schedule. Erggh I forgot about that stuff. [I suppose I would never have applied to grad school if I remembered how much work college is.] So in 3 quick days, I went mini-golfing (pictured above is my celebratory stance after a hole-in-one) I played games with baby boy's parents I went to Pike's Place for the FIRST time I did yoga I painted my toenails I made sushi. Actually, mostly I ate sushi. And I pretended I fit in with the hipster vibe in the city (haha, isn't that ironic). I even had time to take a nap and go on a run. Somehow, I did all that and still caught mom

this is me at the conference with my poster It is a very sad truth that the first time I have ever been to New Orleans was limited to 24 hours. Nine of which were in a nursing conference (hence why I was in New Orleans anyway), and eight of which I devoted to sleep [hint: it was NOT during the nursing conference]. Not a lot of time to enjoy a prime music and food city. a guy playing a something A guy playing the bagpipes (see below for a side view)   A guy playing the lightpole Me in Jackson Square Just some random car I may not ever wear this, but it made me laugh. And I have no idea why it's in a souvenir shop I love music! and I usually love food! I shall have to visit again!

I've heard that perfect competence is achieved when you don't have to think about how you are doing a task. For example, a perfect saint does not think about choosing between his/her own needs and that of a person in need; the saint just does  his/her saintly thing naturally. You might get the impression that I'm setting up this post to claim I'm a saint. Wrong. I am claiming that I am a comedian. This is actually quite a shock to me, because I have only ever made my dad--a pretty good critic on humor, although strongly biased towards himself--laugh ONCE in my whole life at one of my jokes/witticisms.  And unfortunately, I don't even remember what I said. My true setting for this hidden talent must be the hospital; a lot of people (or at least a few people have said multiple times...) claim I'm hilarious. When my patients say this, I don't believe them. It's like the judge in the courtroom--you HAVE to laugh at his (or her) jokes.I'm the one