Monday, June 27, 2005

Mainely doing well

Get it, with the post title? Because I'm in...well, never mind.

It's been a long hiatus, because I have been working hard on getting the new HOUSE, that we BOUGHT, and then stripping wallpaper, painting, moving in, geting the WORST COLD KNOWN TO MAN, getting better, starting resident orientation, having the husband show up, also with THE WORST COLD KNOWN TO MAN, and then (on the same day, of course) having his PARENTS show up. At our house. That is filled with boxes and random decorations like, on the floor, and on shelves, and piled on corners. And then my best friend, who I have known since high school, also flew in from Ohio. On the same day.

I should really be rewarded for the fact that I have not: a) said anything mean or hurtful to anyone, b) shouted "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, EVERYONE," and c) cried. Instead I have been quite the hostess, running the dishwasher and blotting up cat vomit with ease and grace. Really, it's been lovely.

Chris is starting to get over his cold, but it's hanging on to him for MUCH longer than it did me, so he keeps having coughing fits that just go on and on and on, combined with the hacking up of loogies and spitting of loogies into kleenex and trash cans. And, sadly, these most frequently occur in the middle of the night. While I am sleeping. This makes me unhappy. And cranky.

I'm going to start feeling better soon, I just know it. Maine is pretty, I am meeting interesting people, and on Friday I get to start the Intern Year, known to all as the year of fun and excitement, as well as enlightenment and personal growth. (Not.) I'm pretty terrified, especially because I haven't done anything with psychiatry since last April. So there's that, too.

But everyone will hear about all this in times to come. Next time, stories about why I will NEVER take wallpaper off of walls again (my mom is a genius with the patience of Mother Teresa and the looks of Grace Kelly and Jackie O combined, no SERIOUSLY) and about how I can walk for five minutes from my house and be on the beach.

And p.s., the cats say hi to everyone.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

Kate wave


Kate wave
Originally uploaded by DrKateB.
Look! Hey, look everyone! It's a real diploma! Wooo-oooo!

Yeah, I'm working on packing, I just wanted to take a little break and play around. I have a lot of photos that we took last weekend, but I uploaded them onto Dad's computer and now they are . . . in Staten Island. I might burn them to a CD and then bring them back that way.

One parting question--have you ever seen people take pictures at funerals? Well, not AT the funeral, but some of Fred's family was taking photos at the lunch afterwards. It was something interesting that I'd never seen before...

I'm going back to work now! I promise! Geez, you people.

Forging Ahead

Fred's funeral was actually a relatively nice affair, as funerals go. My dad, who is a chaplain, conducted the service and managed to get through without crying. Me on the other hand . . . well, I'm a total girl, and let's leave it at that. It was nice to see my family again, especially the Wallendjack aunt, uncle, and one of the three cousins. We also saw Thomas Lally very briefly--he got into Penn for post-bac, woo-hoo! He is looking forward to joining the ranks of the sleep deprived residents, I can tell. So it was a good weekend, encompassing good food, a few too many drinks, and excellent company.

What it did NOT include was PACKING!!! for the MOVE!!! That is in 13 DAYS!!!!

Bad Katie. Bad, bad.

Since I am taking off again TOMORROW for New York, for the Yard Sale to End All Yard Sales, I'd better get cracking. I think the cats might help. Right, guys? Guys? Meow?

Also, in need of a new project that is more transportable than the sweater I am finishing (3 rows left, I hope!) I started Clapotis, from Knitty. I'm using Cascade 220 in a nice variegated yellow-and-green. I'm working it on bamboo needles, which are just so, so nice. I have a collection of hand-me-down metal needles that really end up hurting my hands after a while. And since, during our rheumatology lectures, the rheumatologist grabbed my fingers, squeezed 'em hard, and told me I was going to get arthritis . . . I'm going to do all I can to be nice to my hands.

Better go. The little orange cat wants a shoulder to ride on, and I've gotta get back to work.