It’s a miracle — I didn’t burn the apartment down!

I don’t cook very often. I was just telling my classmate today — you have to buy all these ingredients, and then you have a ton of it left over, and then they start to spoil, and finally you throw it all away and grumble about wasting all that money.

Plus my mommy brings me about five tupperware containers of food every week. And then she burps me and changes my diaper.

So you can imagine that when I do try to cook, it usually turns out pretty bad.

I had bought an eggplant for a barbecue, but it never got used. So — a week and a half later — I finally told myself that I had to cook it somehow, or else (horror!) all that food would go to waste. And the orphans in China will all start to cry.

Enter Steve Schirripa’s eggplant parmigiana recipe. Apparently it was from an episode of Paula’s Party, and y’all should know I have grown quite fond of Paula “It’s better with butter” Deen.

Somehow, when I was all done, it looked pretty darn good. And it tasted like food! I mean, the eggplant kind of got lost in all the sauce and cheese, but I think this was the first dish I have ever made that looked so presentable, besides tasting good.

Best Song!

How amazing was it to have Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova perform on stage? And then they won! I think everyone who’s seen the movie was rooting for these two.

Amy Adams was radiant, and Kristin Chenoweth was a fun surprise. But if they needed someone else to sing “That’s How You Know,” the obvious choice would be co-star Idina, no? Maybe it would have been too confusing for the kiddies.

The best job in the world

Technically, it’s not my job yet (I doubt anyone would pay for advice from a 2nd year med student behind on his reading). But that was my thought as I rolled myself out of bed at 6:00 AM this morning to go on my preceptorship at the hospital (basically tagging along and seeing everything they do).

That and, “Crap, I better be out the door in ten minutes.” Also, “How did I turn off my alarm without waking up?”

Thinking of the trauma surgeons who have to get from their bed to the hospital in 20 minutes, I quickly got dressed and ready, grabbed an orange for breakfast, and drove down to the medical center.

But I really was looking forward to it. So many exciting things happen at the hospital, you’re there working with a team of smart and good-hearted people, and it’s full of intellectual stimulation and personal challenges.

I’ll share two vignettes:

Falling behind

I’ll never admit this in public, but I’ve fallen dangerously behind in my classes. I haven’t really adopted a good system for studying for any of my present courses, and recent test scores have been disappointing. Passing, but disappointing.

I’m such a gunner in class, too, so the sting is particularly acute.

Perhaps I should spend less time moping about and more time doing some studying. Coming up are Clinical Pathology (everything about blood — transfusions, bleeding disorders, leukemias, anemias), and a big General Pathology/Pharmacology/Clinical Foundations test (skin, bone, soft tissue tumors, leukemias/lymphomas).

Watched Transamerica tonight. I was surprised by how much I liked it. I don’t always enjoy films that get a lot of critical acclaim, but in this one, the characters really won me over. Especially Bree. Everything about her was believable, made you feel for her as a person, drew you to understand her strengths and flaws.

Kevin Zegers in various states of undress didn’t hurt either.

Anywho, back to the books.

My tarot reading

I was hanging out with some friends last night and one of them had a Tarot deck and a book. So we sat around doing readings and looking up the cards we drew.

Here’s my three-card spread:

Past: The Devil ——- Present: The Empress ——- Future: Temperance

(As a disclaimer, like the fine print on the ads for telephone psychics, I see this as “entertainment only,” relying heavily on the Barnum effect. It’s a sort of Rorchach into your own mind. Anything else requires extraordinary evidence.)

A general interpretation seems to be that my recent past was characterized by self-imposed limitations, that right now there is nurturing and mothering going on, and there will be moderation and balance in my future.

Barnum effect or no, I think it’s not half bad, and the lesson about moderation is well-timed. There is always a balance, as difficult as it may be to find.

The bOCket list: Balboa Island frozen banana stand

Cross one off my list of Things To Do Before Leaving Orange County. I drove down to Balboa Island today and spent part of my afternoon walking around and shopping.

But most importantly, I finally enjoyed a Balboa Island frozen banana. Legend has it, this dessert, along with the Balboa Bar (vanilla ice cream dipped in chocolate), had its start right here in Newport Beach. It was also the inspiration for the Bluth’s Original Frozen Banana Stand on Arrested Development.

Contrary to what I thought, there are actually two famous frozen banana stands on Balboa Island: Dad’s Donuts, and Sugar ‘n Spice, both on the same block on Marine Avenue. I went with Sugar ‘n Spice, since their blue-and-yellow color scheme was closer to the TV series. But I’ll be back for round 2, Dad’s Donuts!

No Michael Cera manning the stand (actually a brick-and-mortar building with a service window) — but there was a kindly old woman explaining that you can get a medium, large, or extra-large (like Starbuck’s, they seem to have done away with their smallest size). The frozen banana itself was delicious. And it’s mostly banana, so it’s gotta be healthy. Right??

The Island itself charmed the hell out of me, with its shops like Our Gang’s General Store (a toy shop with Carl Jung action figures) and Martha’s Bookstore (in a hidden nook shaded by trees, where the owner offers you ginger peach tea when you come in).

Almost makes me want to become one of those rich dermatologists with a yacht in Newport Harbor. Almost.

VD 3: I really don’t know love at all

With less than half an hour left in Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d turn this sinking ship around and see if I can land in a happier harbor (hey, I’m drunk and this is the best metaphor you’re gonna get).

Yes, I did rant a bit earlier today. But you know what? I don’t know everything (What?!? Stop the presses!!). From what little I have experienced, love is kind of neat, and there’s nothing like it to make you learn and grow.

So here’s to life, and to exploration, and things we’re still figuring out:

VD 2: Love/Marriage

This week is Freedom to Marry Week. You know that I support the right for everyone to marry the person they love, regardless of their sexual orientation. It’s about fairness and equal rights.

But in reality, I have serious doubts about marriage. I grew up in a house where my parents fought regularly. They weren’t just normal arguments, either — my mother would end up screaming and then go into convulsions, become delirious, and get really really sick, scaring us all half to death. Yet she still maintained that she would not have a divorce because of her religion, even though we were all slowly dying because of it.

Which brought me to realize that it’s silly to expect a marriage to last until death. People change and grow in unexpected ways every day — how can anyone think they can predict their future attitudes? You meet someone you like now, and think you will like for the rest of your life. Yet there is still a 40-50% chance that you will end up divorcing. Or, if not, you will spend a great deal of your life unhappy.

My definition of love is allowing yourself to be vulnerable to another person. Which means that they can and will (often inadvertently) hurt you.

Fuck that. I’m with Sondheim:

“Because I had a lot of friends in my 20’s and 30’s,” he continues, “I didn’t feel alone. I liked working, which you do in a room by yourself. I wasn’t missing anything. I really wasn’t. I had so-called relationships, just not very intense or none that I wanted to make a sort of permanent daily relationship. Not unlike Bobby. I’m sure one of the reasons I had no trouble writing for him was I understood what that emotional, not so much disconnection or dysfunction, but aloofness, or reserve, was. Or perhaps fear. I don’t know. At any rate, it actually never really occurred to me to live with anybody. It just didn’t occur to me until it happened by accident, when I met Peter Jones and we got together.”

Sondheim is now living alone again, though he and Jones are “still close and seeing each other.” His daily routine is fairly regimented: work into the evening, exercise and a late dinner. He’s not a habitue of the New York show-biz party-and-premiere circuit. “I like writing, and because I don’t have a family, I don’t have an awful lot else in my life.”

VD 1: Deviancy/repression

I think it’s fair to say that, over the course of growing up, I have developed a pretty fucked up attitude about sex. At times it’s an obsession, at times it’s scary and shameful, and often it’s both at the same time. You won’t find anyone as repressed as I am.

I used to think that, when I started coming out of the closet (note: I am still starting) + losing my religion a couple of years ago, I was finally going to be free from arbitrary rules defining what’s sexually acceptable and what’s not.

Now it seems that I’ve simply pushed that boundary back a few feet. Gay sex is okay, but being promiscuous is not (for good reason, although how do you define promiscuity?). Group sex is okay in theory, but rarely in practice. Sex with animals is definitely not kosher, I know that one. BDSM might be okay, if you keep it safe? Paraphilias and fetishes are ??????

This week a friend was talking about going to a nude beach, where people are having sex. This kind of stuff still makes me nervous — I worry about being too uptight, but I also worry about revealing too much about my freak-itude.

And even within the range of just plain private sex between two consenting adults, there are a billion rules that I’ve never heard of. When is it okay between friends? When is it too soon after a first date?

Stuff like the Midwest Teen Sex Show and Savage Love are great.

But sometimes I wish we just didn’t even have to have sex at all. Or need to be in confusing-as-hell relationships.

Suck on that, Valentine’s Day.

Another nice Christian girl

With an important message about the elections:

Favorite lines:

So sure about creation / You didn’t need no facts / And I know it’s the best way / To kick the Democrats’ ass.

And if the Jews get mad I say, oh well / Cause they can file a complaint from Hell.