back and in full effect

soo...I haven't been blogging much, at least not on blogger. yall can check out my other blog on myspace.com.

But I've decided to switch it up a bit. 24hrs from now, i should be at the end of a very long flight to Hamburg, Germany. This is most definitely going to be an interesting trip, from the characters going on this journey with me to the riduculous backpacks we're carrying our belongings in (see photo)...everything about this trip says BLOG...and that's just what I'm going to do!

I'm excited to check out Europe's vegetarian flare, hip hop/club scene, and maybe a few museums here and there. Stay tuned.

future doctors of america

after reading this article about a standardized patent's experience at Georgetown and the comments of those who also read this article...http://www.slate.com/id/2169480/?GT1=10238...I got to thinking. First off...standardized patients are paid by a medical university to "act" like patients with a certain problem i.e. depression or abuse or upper respiratory infection...whatever. They allow medical schools to see how well medical students are acquainted with performing physicals. But I guess, I've been doing these physicals so long that I forgot what it's like to be the patient. even when I go for my doctor appointments now...they know I'm a medical student and they don't do the normal patient stuff. we talk to one another using medical jargon. they let me check out the latest equipment...they give me print outs of my results to go and show all my medical school friends (I've got asthma for those who don't know)...anyway, after making the crossover to the medical field...i have forgotten what it's like to be a patient...for many people, doctors' offices are dreadful scary places. I think I used to feel that way. Now I just can't really remember why? is it the white coat...maybe when I'm legitamite, I'll sport a nice teal coat or lime??? is it the smells. there are some smells.

the love window

so apparently when young children learn language, they have a finite period of time to learn distinct sounds...after that period it is essentially impossible to pick up the correct pronunciation later...i'm guessing that's why I can't roll my rrrrr quite like a latina can...anyway, recent events got me to thinking...if there's this phonetic window...may be there are other windows as well...seriously...if you take a small child and isolate them from the world...don't they essentially become introverted and withdrawn? So here's my thought...the love window...a period of opportunity for love that when stimulated allows for continuing communication (from the person's heart to what or whoever wants to communicate). If love isn't experienced within this predetermined time frame then...well...communication from the heart is stifled. I'm thinking that this love window varies from person to person which explains why some people never fall in love (having there window closed earlier in life) and some people seem to stay in love with something (you know who you are!!)...but it exists....right? just thinking out loud.

anonymous

"I thought I took one step, I took two back...hell...
...I'm not even close this time and that's a fact....
...All I know is that we'd be the perfect match...


...There’s nothing quite like a crush. No, better yet…there is definitely nothing like having a crush on a man that turns out to be checking out the same guys you check out. Most crushes are spontaneous and fleeting. But not this one…it was well thought out and calculated. Schemes and plots just to be closer…oh the things I had to suffer through. And even though I did all that… in the back of my mind, I always knew it was just what it was…a crush…not necessarily spontaneous but most definitely fleeting…I was ready for a beautiful vivacious women...not a handsome vivacious man.


What's your name? (Anonymous)Where you at? (Anonymous)...Think about you I getta a rush...yup that was my crush...



Is your name Mary Anne….what, who me?
or Cathy Lee……nope, try kv..." -bobby v and kayvon

My Little Interview

1. Coconut or lime? Definitely lime. Tangy, tart, and capable of preventing scurvy! Fresh and juicy...I sometimes need diluting (I prefer ice water and agave nectar!)

2. Why did you decide to go natural? Honestly, I didn't decide. The decision was made for me.

The prelude: First chemical process was not the relaxer but the curl...yes leisure curl! Most of the photos are hidden in my parents house! My first relaxer experience happened when I was in the fifth grade. It was what it was and I didn't like it. And that's when the struggle began...relax...grow out...relax...grow out...relax. Those grow out periods were laced with episodes of Copa...I'm just glad my hair actually still grows. Never really understood how people could stand relaxers.

The last straw or more appropriately strand: I realized that not everybody had the same experience I had. I was and probably still am allergic to whatever the hell is in relaxer paste. My scalp would be inflamed for weeks following a process. Then in high school, after a complete breakage disaster, I ended it. I decided that...1) no beauty treatment should hurt that bad (this was before I discovered the joy and pain of waxing!) 2) if people liked me then they would like me for the person I am, not because my hair looked like everybody else around. So that's when it began. I remember it was like 1997. I was talked about badly at school for hair, among other things. Hair insults never really bothered me.

3. If you could instantly be fluent in a language, what language would you choose? Cuban Spanish. I've got an obsession with Cuba.

4. What are your top three favorite songs of all time? Geez. 1)Lift Every Voice and Sing 2)Ribbon in the Sky 3)At Your Best...are you shocked?

5. Obstetrics or Proctology and why? See...if you had said gynecology or proctology, I'd say gynecology. If you had said Gastroentology and Obstetrics, I'd say Gastroenterology. But these two? Proctology. This may sound mean, but whatever...pregnant women are difficult to be around. Screaming women...screaming babies...blood everywhere. NO THANKS. Proctology. Viewed as disgusting by many I'm sure, but trust me...poop ain't never screamed!!!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------If you are interested in being interview by kayvon, here are the guidelines:

1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me.

2. I will respond by asking you five questions. I get to pick the questions.

3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

6. 5 is my limit.

What if?

What if I weren't such an introverted loner nerd...what if?

There was this guy that I used to notice back in undergrad. We used to eat breakfast at the same time…every year. I thought the sweat bands he wore around his bald head were cute. Plus anyone that can major in engineering while wearing a wife-beater is someone to keep an eye on. Never thought he would have ever noticed me. I wasn’t the type of girl to go up to a guy that I was interested in. I’m still not that kinda girl.

Then one day, he noticed. Actually he was in the chemistry tutoring corner and so was I. But I was a Chemistry major so…I tutored. He listened. Told me I had beautiful eyes and gave me his number. I called. No answer. Called again. No answer. School year ended. I graduated…still think…what if.

Then there was the guy that I met in the laundry room Easter weekend. Probably shouldn’t trust a guy that needs a wing man to help him out. However, I’ve always had a thing for guys from Chicago, never understood why. Gave him my number, he seemed pretty nice.

Then there was the guy that I met while dissecting my sacrificed feline for comparative anatomy. He walked in and the entire class, mostly girl, noticed him. My quest to medical school at the time warranted the expenditure of extra hours dissecting after class. And there he was...this future doctor helping me with my anatomy. That was destined to be a…what if?

The largest what if of them all…happened in Boston. Two words…Construction worker. It was hot…he was hot and I wanted badly to be his glass of lemonade. Never approached him. One day though, he did call me sweetie. I thought I was going to die. And on the last day of the summer, right before I left to catch my flight back home, I thought I had to courage to say something…walked right over to where he worked…and kept walking.