Le Baron, Cont.

Le Baron has been recovered! I got this email last night from John:

"Coppers found Jim's car this morning and she's back at the pimp palace. Robber even cleaned the outside. But no gas was added. yippee!! Found at 707 W Miracle Mile at Wayward Winds Lodge next to TD's West. Shady area and no workable prints. End of story"

Let us note that Miracle Mile Road (real name) lives up to it's name; hordes of prostitutes (real women AND transvestites) roam the area at night (if my memory serves me correctly, the No-Tel Motel is nearby). TD's West is a notoriously trashy strip club where Weds is Chicken Parm night (Entree for $3.50). This is not a high class area, people.

Ah, the adventures of Le Baron.

Le Baron

Jim is one of my closest friends here in Tucson. Like me, he is a returned Peace Corps volunteer and together we share a love for Africa. This semester, he has abandoned me to do his thesis project in Niger; a public health project involving a nutritional assessment and the British Red Cross. While he's gone, Jim kept his apartment and car here in Tucson, entrusted to our friend John, also a RPCV and recently returned from a whirlwind trip to Ghana with Engineers Without Borders (we're an Africa-loving bunch); he's currently living in Jim's apartment (nicknamed Pimp Palace because of the hot pink flashing flamingo sign proclaiming "Realto Palace") and driving Jim's car, a 1992 Le Baron (nicknamed "Le BarON").

Le Baron is a piece of shit, though it has served Jim well over the years. It's gears are shot and the battery regularly dies, needing a jump every few. However, it's a (mostly) working vehicle, so John's thankful for the loan.

Or was.

I got a phone call last night. "Elisabeth, it's Johnny. Qick question: Do you know Jim's birthday?" After we determined that Jim's birthday was either at the end of June or July and he was either 28 or 29, John told me his reason for call.

Le Baron was THIEVED!

John parked the car next to the dumpster, which is right behind Jim's apartment window. He went out later that day to throw some trash in the dumpster and.....Le Baron was GONE! At some point, someone had come by and stolen the Le Baron right behind Jim's apartment window.

The irony of the entire story: The thieves stole a complete lemon. Le Baron's gears had shifted out of place and were held only in place with some duct tape. John had made an apointment with a mechanic to tow Le Baron in for some work for the next day.

Tucson is the Capital of Car Theft and apparently the thieves are as dumb as shit.

Strictly Ballroom

As a generous gesture, the Med Student gave me an introductory course to ballroom dancing for Valentine's day. The total package included four half-hour lessons and one group class for BOTH of us. The idea was to pick up some ballroom basics so we didn't just do the MiddleSchool Shuffle Sway around the dance floor for four hours at our wedding reception.

And amazingly, it's actually turning out to be loads of fun. The instruction occurs on the ballroom floor with several other students getting lessons at the same time--you never feel lonely! Our teacher, Christina, is a little petite riot and is continually making me laugh AND feel less self-conscious, which is no small feat.

Thus far, we've learned the basics of the waltz, foxtrot, rumba, chacha, tango and the nightclub two-step. We're not great, but we're not usually horrible. But most importantly, we're having a blast laughing and getting ourselves out of our rut and around people that we can make friends with!

It's Blah Life

So...to follow on the footsteps of my Favorite Barbara Ever, I am living a blah life right now. I kind of feel like I'm simply existing. I'm not depressed, necessarily....just bored. Alot. I'm not taking classes this semester in lieu of my internship/thesis (which has been exceedingly slow to be started). Work is boring--same old, same old. Several of my friends have moved and/or gone for the semester, so my world has narrowed down to a few people, all of whom are exceedingly busy people. I sit at home and talk to my cats (who are starting to talk back to me).

So, I've fixated on a dog to solve my problems. Now, I know that a dog is more than an upper---it requires patience and love and attention, blah blah. I know the committment that is required with a dog (I've had one before), but that is exactly WHY I want a dog. I want something that is time consuming, something I HAVE to get up for in the morning to take on walks. I want to go to dog parks to let my pup run free and meet other people with dogs.

I know that timing may not be right at the moment on the surface, seeing as how we're moving in a few months, etc. etc. But the upside to my small apartment is that I have time right (oodles of time) to spend with a dog, showing it affection, love and acclimating it to the cats.

So I want a dog. A nice, warm dog to love and be loved by. I've beaten down the Med Student by constantly talking about a dog and practicing my leash walk. He's agreed to get one as soon as next week....And now I have cold feet! What if it doesn't work out, what do I do? What if the cats don't get along with New Pup??

Stay tuned......

Crossing the Continental Divide

Driving trips are somehow infinitely more satisfying than flying--something about being physically connected to the land you are traveling across. Bird's eye views are thrilling but nothing compares to the feel of the road bumping beneath you.

The Med Student and I drove to Albuquerque this week for a second look at his residency program. I tagged along for the drive and to scope out potential job leads. The drive was awe-inspiring. Out West, the highways are so empty and you can see the rise and fall of the road, stretching out before you for miles like a black asphalt ribbon going no where. The scrubby desert plants, the yellow grass. The wide-open space, bringing to mind a past time.

On the way back, we took more deserted roads and drove through the Apache Reservation. The landscape changed from high desert to mountains. The road scaled up a mountain and then down again, weaving through the tall pines, the smell of smoke permeating the air.

There are no lights lining the highways or side roads (and no towns on the horizon), so when night fell and the sky darkened, the only lights were our headlights piercing the darkness. Just for fun, we turned our lights off and immediately were catapaulted into erie pitch dark with only the stars to light our way.

We crossed both the Rio Grande and the Continental Divide, at which point the Med Student asked, "If I stood on the Divide and urinated, which way would my stream go?" So much for the majesty of the Old West.

None of Your BIZ-ness

With the Med Student gone on another residency interview, I get lonely in the evening. I love the cats, but when Turtle and Zola start talking back to me, I know it's time to get out and actively seek human company.

So last night, my partner-in-crime Meigan and I decided to go out. We had a lovely dinner at a healthy Japanese restaurant (Mushroom Soba soup for your's truly) and then hunted down our friend Lise. After a drink and a mini-ghost hunt at Historic Hotel Congress (try corner room #24), Lise went home. After aimlessly driving about, Meigan suggested the local lesbian bar.

Surprisingly, despite my history of bar hopping and drunken debauchery, I've never actually been in a "gay" bar before. I'm not sure exactly what I was expecting (think: older, established lesbian crowd, maybe a bit down-home, honkey-tonk, cowboy boot dyke?), but what we found was NOT it (in fact, the only cowboy boot wearers were the two of us). The bar was actually a pulsating, vibrating, thumping dance scene--almost like a frat party, minus straight men. I think the bar/club actually caters to the Latina lesbian scene. It was fantastic. Ironically, both of us kept talking about our boyfriends the entire time. Not intentionally, just out of...habit?

Meigan and I danced for an hour, used the unisex bathroom and headed home, a little bit wiser about a different crowd of Tucson.

Brokeback Mountain, or, What Could Have Been

Well, I went to see Brokeback Mountain a few nights ago and I can't shake that movie out of my head, no matter how hard I try. It was truly a stunning, visually appealing, tormented love story. It was phenomenal. I loved it in a depressing, heart-sinking, crushing way.

The story is beautiful. Watching the love between these two men grow, take over and destroy their lives slowly is so heart-rendering. The ending is perfect. It isn't devastatingly sad, nor is it wrapped-up-Hollywood neat. The ending was left in limbo, like the love they shared, making you think on what could have been instead of what was. It just about broke my heart in two.

Update

Wow. It has been a while and I apologize for my apparently inability to consistently blog.

Sadly, and truthfully, nothing new to report. Wedding plans are moving along nicely and the Tucson Event of 2006 will be well underway soon.

I'm not taking classes this semester---thank god. I am starting my internship project, which is slow starting because the Human Subjects Review Board is taking their sweet time reading my proposal. But, I'm enjoying the break.

I've been accompanying the Med Student along on his residency interviews. We got back from Portland last week after a great trip. Portland is a stunning city and the hospital complex is set on the side of a hill. Don't ask me how emergency vehicles get up winding, narrow road during ice storms or snow, but what a breath-taking view. The only downside of Portland is the constant dripping rain, which could be a downer if I actually had to live there. Talk about Seasonal Affective Disorder!

I'm off to St. Louis this weekend to visit with my great friend (and old college roommate) while Cliff goes through another two interviews. I had a blast the last time I was there and fully expect a fantastic weekend (although I'm sure my cats are not pleased to be left alone again!).

So, it's been a quiet life. Lots of television of dubious quality. You know, the usual.

Quarter of a Century

Today is my 25th Birthday. It's quite a shock, honestly. When people ask my age, I immediate think "23" and have to remind myself that I'm actually 24. I mean, 25.

But on my birthday, I like to take stock of my life, look back on my year, where I've been and where I'm heading.

Ironically, last year, I thought life couldn't get any worse. But it did. It got really bad for awhile; I descended to a place lower than I ever thought possible. Funny how life has a way of coming back again, no matter how badly you think it's gone for good. I'm recovering, I'm writing, I'm smiling, I'm even laughing. I can look at life head-on again, even though I'm not sure where it's taking me.

And once again, I find myself profoundly amazed at the people in my life. My friends and my lover pulled me up and out, bolstered me on their shoulders and carried me through the most isolating grief I've will ever experience. And they still love me. Even more amazing, they still listen. I can never thank them enough. Words do not do my emotions justice---they never had. You know who you are. I love you.

So life has come back, indeed. I'm five months away from wedded bliss. I'm with a man who loves me, despite my flaws. I'm learning an intimacy so deep, I never imagined the possibilities. And so, once again, I find myself learning.

On this note, my yearly horoscope from the Washington Post:
TODAY'S BIRTHDAY (December 1). This year, you'll experience a brightening and lightening phenomenon that perks up every corner of your life. You are learning how to communicate with clarity. Business arrangements are far more creative and interesting than they were last year -- finances reflect the improved situation. There are many happy times ahead with Taurus and Pisces.

Duly noted. Life can only get better from here. Bring it on!

Holidaze

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday, mostly because the whole purpose of the holiday is to eat and be thankful. And this year was no exception.

The Med Student and I drove out to Los Angeles for Thanksgiving so I could see the lovely Pacific Coast and meet the rest of his family. And what a meeting it was! Honestly, I'm not sure if I was *prepared* for the whole experience of getting a WHOLE family. I was just starting to adjust to the ideas of another mother and father---totally NOT ready for new aunts, uncles, grandmothers, cousins, dogs....

Overwhelming, yes. But it was also welcoming.

LA was a blast. Got to go to Venice Beach and see all the weird people and the hippy culture. Rode the giant Ferris wheel on the Santa Monica pier at night, looking out over the inky black ocean. Ate the most delicious clam chowder outside of Boston in Malibu. Walked along the "Kodak Theater" and the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Stepped into Johnny Depp's gorgeous footprints. Even went into Sephora and exhibited a little bit of self-control by not actually buying anything!

Fat-Free

Uh, yeah. I am not fat-free, but I am on a diet. I'm going public with it, so when you all see me, feel free to pinch my fat and ask me how "heifer" is doing. It's a sick, sick motivational technique! I'm not entirely sure if it will work, but feel free to try! Of course, thanks to the stress of daily living has not helped my diet since I'm most likely found munching grilled cheese in the hospital cafeteria (catered by effing Aramark!). But, the good news is, I found the most delicious ice-cream: Dryer's Slow Churned Rich and Creamy Light Peppermint.

OMG.

Seriously tastes like NORMAL ice-cream. And peppermint ice-cream is my second favorite flavor of all time. And it tastes like NORMAL ice-cream. And I can't stop eating it. I fear this ice cream is going to become like the senario in senior year at WM when Barbara and I gorged ourselves on WOW chips, the chedder cheese flavoring turning the outsides of our mouths orange as we laid on the floor watching the Real World with Trishelle.

If I don't answer the phone tomorrow, please come looking for my bloated body, lying on the couch, watching Nip/Tuck reruns, empty cartons of ice cream strewn around my floor, my cats milling about my feet.

Sunday Blahs

I am a significantly more boring person when I'm happy. Funny things don't happen to me. I have nothing to write about. I smile alot, looking goofy. I know being happy is a good thing, but let's be honest--happiness makes for a boring, inactive blog....

I've been thinking about being adult, as my impending nuptials impend closer. With Jen a married woman, me almost a bride, Amanda a homeowner, Kailen and Cristin working a professional jobs, Megan almost a lawyer and Barbara teaching high schoolers. I think we've reached that point where we're not just waiting for life to begin, but we're actually living it. We've reached official adulthood, and I for one am slightly terrified. But in a good way.

Plug and Socket, or, My First Trick-or-Treat Experience

My friend Meigan, who throws the best parties I've EVER been to, threw a rocking Halloween bash. Because I grew up in a super-Christian household where Halloween stands for Satan's Holiday, I never got into the spirit of the day. But this year, dressing-up was a requirement for Meigan's party. So, she and I headed out to the costume shop.

I thought briefly about doing a flapper costume. Cute, but typical. Plus, I looked like Rambo with that feather band around my forehead. Then, I spotted IT. Two foam costumes of a Plug and Socket. The socket (or the female half) resembled a pillow-case with sockets on the front. The plug (male) was a foam box worn around the hips with gold prongs and a long white cord. AND the best part? The plug actually "plugged" into the socket right at the genitalia region!

So, I had to buy it for Med Student and I. And of course, he had to keep plugging into me all night long as I drained a bottle of white wine and generally made an ass in front of an 18-yr-old who was in my freshman bio lab. What fun.

But the best part of the holiday was my first time trick-or-treating. Jim and I decided to celebrate the Somalis' first Halloween by taking the 9 and 3 year old trick-or-treating. Jim bought them Power Ranger costumes and little pumpkin baskets. Holy Hell, that experience ranks up there as one of the funnest (most fun?) nights of my life. The 3-year old, Mohammed, was incredibly adorable, tripping over his costume which was a mite too big. He'd run up to the door and we'd prompt him to say, "Trwick or Tweat" and "Thank you."

My uterus and ovaries twitched all night long.

Spring is in the Air!

No, I'm not crazy and, no, my seasons aren't mixed up. But the beginning of fall here in Arizona always feels like spring to me. A breath of cooler air blows in, washing the hottness way, making everything in its path just feel more alive. I've always felt a sense of ending to fall, but here, October feels like a new, fresh beginning. Lovely, really.

Today, I got to sleep in for the first time in over a week. I didn't wake up until 10:30; it felt so luxurious laying there, stretched out under the blanket with the sunlight streaming in through open window shades. There's a brisk warm breeze outside, making the trees sway and few white clouds high in the sky.

God, I love it here. Sorry, East Coast, you will never have me back!

Poor POOR Bride

The latest email from Tasha, friend extraordinaire, always looking out for me:

EB,
First, I'd like to say, I had not heard the excitement about your wedding before you told me about the gift registry. That said, I've gotta tell ya....YOU SHOULD HAVE GONE FOR SOME BIG STUFF!!!!!
I took a look at your registries, and I can potentially see one person getting you several things at once. (ok, I would get you several of those things--- not expensive!) None of your gifts are big ticket items that you and Cliff wont want to buy for yourselves. In fact, I didn't see anything over $280! Andmost things were under $60! (thhhwummp....the sound of future brides fainting everywhere!)
I know...you want to make the giving easier on the givees. But for MY sake, you could have asked for some HUGE luxury item just to see if someone would buy it. This is your chance to get some really awesome shit.
Of course, I'll still be getting you something inexpensive, but think of the others! haha
And you could have put in some weird crap too, just to see if someone would buy it. (can you see the look on Grams face when she sees you registered for a lifetime supply of condoms?!? or maybe men's underwear and a tire pump?)
Live it up girlie! This is your last chance at big-time gifts until...until...you die???????
Loving you glam bride,
T

This said, I'm now thinking of registering for that cool Crate&Barrel bed. Or maybe starting a "personal" registry on Victoria's Secret or Sephora.....don't worry, Tasha. I'll get right on that!

Titty Hard-On, or, What Other Words Can TA Stand For?

Yes, I know that I'm about six years older than the average freshman and no, I don't know why I'm taking freshman biology, but I do really like it. It's *fun* taking hard science classes after all the social science bullshit.

Anyways, my lab TA is really cool. She's probably just a year or two older than me, so I feel....more in touch with her than with my lab partners. Her arms and back are covered in tattoos, her face is pierced and is getting married in October. I am pretty sure I have the biggest Girl Crush of my life on her.

Yesterday, I walked into lab. TA was wearing this light blue, tight cami-top. It was totally see-through. As in, I could see both the outline of her aerolas and nipples through the sheer blue. And, on her right nipple, I could see the outline of a tiny barbell piercing.

I felt like a man. I could not stop staring at her breasts. They were amazing. Perfectly small, perfectly shaped, perfectly pert. Gorgeous. I felt jealous, but mostly I still felt like TA is the coolest TA a girl could ever ask for.

Looking Professional, or, Another Reason to Spend $

My loans have come through for the semester and I am again the proud owner of thousands of dollars. My loans are not as important for my survival this year, as I am working a good job and actually make money. However, the loans are important for maintaining my wardrobe.

Tucson has corrupted me. I looked in the mirror and realized that I ONLY wear flip-flops, despite having an entire shoe department in my closet. I can't remember the last time I actually looked *good* (Jennifer & Matthew 8.13.05 excepted). And I am almost 25-years old. It is high time I sucked it up and started dressing professionally, at least some of the time.

So, I today I did what every girl should do. I went shopping for hours, six hours to be exact. I bought an entire wardrobe of nice, but not too nice, clothing. Most purchases were from The Gap or other like-minded stores, so none of the purchases were too adventureous. I am excited about looking a little more put-together and a little less schlub.

However, we shall see just how long this *professionalism* lasts, considering I have an 8 am freshman bio MWF.

Wish me luck.

Jennifer & Matthew 8.13.05

Ah. Summer is drawing to a close, back-to-school commercials are all over the TV ("I like backpacks, I cannot lie!); the streets and Targets of Tucson are clogged with the new freshmen and their panicking parents. Traffic has increased three-fold. For reasons partially unbeknownest to me, I am taking freshman biology. I had to leave my hospital and medical campus to push my way through the hordes of children on main campus, fighting for the last copy of the Bio181 textbook.

Even though there is no fall here and it's still 100 degrees, something in the air has shifted--an energy of anticipation, of clean notebooks, unused textbooks and new faces around campus.

It's good to be home.

However, it was good to be at Jennifer & Matthew. The weekend was crazy busy, but fun. Jen managed to avoid Bridezilla, never once stamping her feet and demanding, "Make me a princess, but more sophisticated!" In fact, I think Jen might have actually been the calmest one on the wedding day. The highlight of the day was when the Wedding Planner Janelle asked us bridesmaids if we were wearing panties. Apparently, she's had many a bridesmaid pass out from "emotion and heat." And not wearing panties is a no-no when passing out. No one needs to see that---talk about stealing the thunder.

Jen looked beautiful and bridal. I cried when her dad handed her off to Matt. I cried when Michael Canestroni gave his toast. I tried my damnedest to get drunk, but it was tough as the night wore on since I was sweating the drinks out as soon as I drank them. I didn't pee for eight hours, despite the amount of liquid poured down my throat.

All in all, the wedding was a successful party, despite the heat and humidity. It was fabulous to see old friends--just wished the night could have gone on and on and on and on......

The Long Grow Out

I stupidly got my hair cut and I hate it. It's about shoulder-length (it was down my back before) with charming red highlights.

I look like I'm 12.

I thought shorter hair was suppose to make people look older, not younger, until I realized the hair cut is an exactly replica of the one I had in 6th grade.

Talk about perpetuating the insecurities that went with big glasses and braces.

I'm starting the Grow Out immediately

A Long July

So. It got pointed out to me (again) that I suck.

My "International Health: Community and Clinical Practice" is finally over. THAT was an experience from hell, yet I somehow managed to learn tons (probably because of the ... *gasp* ... five hours of studying a night!). I can put IVs into anyone who wants one (without bruising). I can perform a symphisiotomy (spelling??) on a woman whose pelvis is too small to pass the fetus. And I can even pull teeth.

Trust me?