It is my 5 year anniversary! With my boyfriend/fiance, you ask? No. Today marks the 5th year of Lil Layne.
Five years ago today, I created Lil Layne...although back then, it was known as "Spring Travels." It started off as a way to document a 3 week backpacking trip around Europe. Remember that, Amy? The early posts were extremely rough and unedited. It also took me an embarrassing amount of time to learn that you are meant to put punctuation marks inside the quotation marks like "this!" instead of "this"!. At one point I set out to go back and correct all the old posts, but I have since decided to just let people think I was drunk the entire time I was writing (which was probably true 90% of the time).
I remember writing my first post ever. I honestly thought I wouldn't write a second post because I didn't want to be lumped in the same category as people who used Livejournal. (ASIDE: do people still even USE livejournal? Remember Friendster? Wow. Blast from the past.) In any event...I thought blogs were weird. But then I met someone who was normal who had a blog (I think it may have been Brian Wagner, who I highly doubt even reads this blog, but maybe I will send him a well-timed facebook message), and I decided that maybe I could write one too.
So much has happened in the 5 years since I started Lil Layne: I graduated from college, got my first job, had my first female stalker, traveled to the Dominican Republic and began hating Canadians, got into law school, met C-Murder, decided I hated the law, and planned my wedding. OH! And how is this for an epic milestone: in the 5 years since I started blogging, THE NEW ORLEANS SAINTS WON THE SUPERBOWL.
But, really, I wanted to write this post to thank the people who keep reading, who comment, who give me ideas and who are so supportive of my little fledgling operation. I don't want to embarrass anyone by calling them out specifically...but I don't know what I'd do without my readers in New York, Astoria, France, DC, London, Philly, Atlanta, Cameroon, Edinburgh, Buffalo, Los Angeles, Boston, New Orleans, North Carolina and Houston. (It may look like a lot of places, but really it only amounts to like...5 or 6 people. But I heart each and every one of you). To my mom, who only yells at me when I curse in my posts, and to my dad, who has (thankfully) kept his comments-written-in-the-form-of-rap-lyrics to a minimum. To Lee2 who keeps me updated on what's cool (vampires) and what's not (the television program "In Plain Sight.") To my cousins (all 201934 of you) who do not hold my "Bratty/Snobby/Terrible" phase against me. I know I am probably forgetting so many people, but that doesn't mean I love you/appreciate your readership any less.
Before I get all sappy, I would like to take this momentous occasion to address a couple of people.
To Corry Rush: You are still the Spawn of Satan. I will never forget how quickly you dismissed me. Having said that: all will be forgiven if you give me tickets to the Saints season opener. I would like to sit right behind the bench on the 50 yard line. You have my email.
ToLil Wayne: I still sort of hate you for picking the Vikings in the NFC Championship Game...but now that we won the Superbowl, I think maybe I can ease up on my hatred rhetoric. Thank you for letting me use your name and likeness for my website. Can you make me a promise though? While you're in prison, can you use this time to come out with some GOOD rap (like from "Tha Carter") and not this "Bed Rock" swill you are feeding us?
To the individual who keeps rejecting my facebook friend request: I got your number, sister. And if you think my friend requests are going to stop, you've got another thing coming. Every time you reject me, I just am more determined to keep requesting you. By the by, in my book, people who unfriend people on facebook are degenerates. So...good luck in life.
To Justin Bieber: It's really cool to hate on you right now, so I'm going to jump on the bandwagon. Your hair bothers me. And I hate how much money you have. And I think I may have drunkenly signed up to be on your email distribution list, and now you won't stop spamming me with email. Are you even old enough to operate a computer?
Well...it is late, and I must go to sleep now, but I love you all, and thank you so much for reading!
Read more
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Have you ever heard of Scott Williams?
Before there was Evan Lysacek, and Johnny Weir...there was Scott Williams.
I think I like the way the commentators try to objectively discuss his choreography and style. At some moments in this Nirvana routine, I think he is channeling the late great Chris Farely playing Matt Foley (aka, the "Van down by a river" motivational speaker).
Anybody Remember Truly, Madly, Deeply? He's really got a way with his hips.
Funnily enough, I googled Scott Williams, and it turns out that he was (at one point in time) a coach to Michelle Kwan. Looks like Scotty has hit some rough times, and can now be seen skating at a rink in Redondo Beach, California. Read more
I think I like the way the commentators try to objectively discuss his choreography and style. At some moments in this Nirvana routine, I think he is channeling the late great Chris Farely playing Matt Foley (aka, the "Van down by a river" motivational speaker).
Anybody Remember Truly, Madly, Deeply? He's really got a way with his hips.
Funnily enough, I googled Scott Williams, and it turns out that he was (at one point in time) a coach to Michelle Kwan. Looks like Scotty has hit some rough times, and can now be seen skating at a rink in Redondo Beach, California. Read more
Party Crashing
It's been a while internets! Some of my loyal readers wondered whether I ever ended up achieving my goals of attending any parties at the Orthopedic Surgeon Convention in New Orleans. Oh ye of little faith.
OF COURSE I DID. And it wasn't just one party. It was 6 parties. What up, Salahis? Who's the party-crasher now?
So, after leaving the convention center, I made my way over to the business district. I wasn't really *intending* to crash six parties when I walked over there. I was just bored and thought that I could walk to canal street, catch the streetcar back home, where I would promptly take a 20 minute nap on the couch, and wake up just in time for Parks and Recreation. Such is the life of a 20-something Single Lady in her prime. What up, Golden Girls!
Luckily, fate had more in store for me that night. As I was walking down Fulton Street, I saw this bar set up in the middle of the street with a sign in front of the restaurant that said, "Closed for a Private Party." JACKPOT. I staked out the premises for a while and waited for a moment when the door monitors had walked away to get another drink from the bar. I then ran inside.
Party 1 Host: A Biological Engineering Firm making synthetic cartilage
Free Goodies: Open Bar, Shrimp and Grits, Bread Pudding, Gumbo, Pasta, and Carving Station
Upon entering the party, I felt as though I had won the lottery. All of my blogging and walking around the restaurant had made me hungry for dinner, and there is nothing I like more than some good old fashioned shrimp and grits. Being the delicate and classy southern lady I am, I helped myself to several plates. I also helped myself to 2 gin and tonics. As I was standing at the bar (trying to figure out if I could order some beers and stuff them in my bag, or if I should pace myself in case I went to more parties) I overheard this 30-40yr old diminutive man talking loudly to this older gentleman. Here is a transcript of the conversation.
Diminutive Man: So yeah...like...I left her back at the hotel. (I could only assume he was talking about his wife at this point.)
Old Man: Do you often travel together?
Diminutive Man: Well she had never been to New Orleans, and I thought, why not??
Old Man: That is nice of you. (I immediately wondered why this man would think it "nice" of a husband to take his wife with him on vacation?)
Diminutive Man: Yeah, I mean...she has her own hotel room too. (What a weird relationship this man has with his wife, I thought to myself).
Old Man: Well I would hope so (Note: At this point I was SERIOUSLY confused...why would the husband and wife have separate hotel rooms??)
Diminutive Man: I mean, no way was I going to have my mom sharing a room with me...interfering with my ability to come and go as I please. I mean, I am my own man, and if I want to come out to a party like this, I'm not going to let my mom tell my otherwise.
I immediately burst out laughing and spit out my drink all over myself upon the realization that this GROWN MAN had brought his mother on vacation with him. NOT TO MENTION he was talking about it openly at a party. The Diminutive Man immediately took note of me (mostly because I *literally* spit my gin and tonic across the bar) and yelled out, "Bartender, let me buy this woman another drink!" while winking. I laughed out loud again, because - FYI, GUY - it was an open bar. At that point I decided it was time to move on.
Party 2 Host: Some ski injury clinic in Salt Lake City Utah
Location: Harrah's Hotel
Goodies: Free Chapstick, and a vegetable plate
Honestly - this party was seriously something boring. First of all, it was attended by maybe 4 people, and they all knew each other, and they all knew I was clearly crashing. I could have cared less. I went in there, helped myself to some broccoli spears and a tube of vanilla flavored chapstick, and I walked out.
Party 3 Host: Arkansas Orthopedic Surgeon Fellows
Location: Harrah's Hotel
Goodies: Passed Hors D’Oeuvres which were not offered to me
Another party I walked into where it was clear that I did not belong. Imagine the coworkers on your team having a party in a conference room, and then imagine a person you've never even seen before in your entire life walking in and following the waitress around looking for a puffed pastry. I was that girl. I don't think I lasted 2 minutes there.
Party 4 Host: Some Orthopedic engineering company who manufacture metal rods
Location: W Hotel
Goodies: Free alcohol, and cake.
This party had been quite the event before I got there -- it was winding down just as I walked in. There had been so many people there that they had run out of ice and crystal glasses. I didn't care, and I took my drink without ice and in a plastic cup (college style). I walked around for a bit, and listened to some man explain the metal contraptions. He was boring me, so I just started picking up the contraptions off the table, and started winging them about. This did not go over well, and it wasn't too long before I felt it best that I leave the party, before I was forcibly removed.
Party 5 Host: Indiana Orthopedic Surgeon Fellows
Location: W Hotel
Goodies: Ice, and Crystal Glasses
AND YET ANOTHER PARTY where everyone knew each other, and I was standing there awkwardly by myself. I immediately went up to the bar and demanded that they replace my plastic glass from the last party with a crystal one, and that they provide me with some ice. After I was equipped with a proper looking drink, it took me about 4 minutes of standing alone and drunkenly swaying by myself to notice that not only was I the only person standing alone, but I was the only woman attending the party. So I did what any uncommon woman would do, and I proceeded to chat up the female janitor who was cleaning up. I confided in her that I was party crashing, and rather than kick me out, she told me that I should come back tomorrow night for even better parties We talked for a while -- I gave her my advice on law school (don't do it), she told me about how she was switching jobs, and we became BFFs, although I do not remember her name. Also - I was getting pretty drunk. Eventually when I noticed people pointing, staring, and talking about me, I decided it was, yet again, time to move on.
Party 6 Host: Chris Paul of the New Orleans Hornets
Location: Whiskey Blue
Goodies: Professional Basketball Players
Another new bff I made, the manager of the Whiskey Blue Bar, gave me the heads up that this party was going to be going down that night (it was CP3's girlfriend's birthday), so obviously I had to stay. It was AN ETERNITY before they actually arrived, but once they did, it was awesome. I went up to Chris Paul, and said the following to him:
"Thankyouforallyoudoforthecity :::BREATH::: YouAreShorterThanYouLookOnTVThatsSoCool :::BREATH::: IFollowYouOnTwitterIamLilLayne :::BREATH:::: BYE!!"
Another Successful interaction with a celebrity.
Needless to say, I think I have found my niche: Crashing Parties. It is something I genuinely enjoy doing. My friends and I were crashing weddings before the movie "Wedding Crashers" even came out. So, I think it is something I may do more of in the future. Stay tuned. Read more
OF COURSE I DID. And it wasn't just one party. It was 6 parties. What up, Salahis? Who's the party-crasher now?
So, after leaving the convention center, I made my way over to the business district. I wasn't really *intending* to crash six parties when I walked over there. I was just bored and thought that I could walk to canal street, catch the streetcar back home, where I would promptly take a 20 minute nap on the couch, and wake up just in time for Parks and Recreation. Such is the life of a 20-something Single Lady in her prime. What up, Golden Girls!
Luckily, fate had more in store for me that night. As I was walking down Fulton Street, I saw this bar set up in the middle of the street with a sign in front of the restaurant that said, "Closed for a Private Party." JACKPOT. I staked out the premises for a while and waited for a moment when the door monitors had walked away to get another drink from the bar. I then ran inside.
Party 1 Host: A Biological Engineering Firm making synthetic cartilage
Free Goodies: Open Bar, Shrimp and Grits, Bread Pudding, Gumbo, Pasta, and Carving Station
Upon entering the party, I felt as though I had won the lottery. All of my blogging and walking around the restaurant had made me hungry for dinner, and there is nothing I like more than some good old fashioned shrimp and grits. Being the delicate and classy southern lady I am, I helped myself to several plates. I also helped myself to 2 gin and tonics. As I was standing at the bar (trying to figure out if I could order some beers and stuff them in my bag, or if I should pace myself in case I went to more parties) I overheard this 30-40yr old diminutive man talking loudly to this older gentleman. Here is a transcript of the conversation.
Diminutive Man: So yeah...like...I left her back at the hotel. (I could only assume he was talking about his wife at this point.)
Old Man: Do you often travel together?
Diminutive Man: Well she had never been to New Orleans, and I thought, why not??
Old Man: That is nice of you. (I immediately wondered why this man would think it "nice" of a husband to take his wife with him on vacation?)
Diminutive Man: Yeah, I mean...she has her own hotel room too. (What a weird relationship this man has with his wife, I thought to myself).
Old Man: Well I would hope so (Note: At this point I was SERIOUSLY confused...why would the husband and wife have separate hotel rooms??)
Diminutive Man: I mean, no way was I going to have my mom sharing a room with me...interfering with my ability to come and go as I please. I mean, I am my own man, and if I want to come out to a party like this, I'm not going to let my mom tell my otherwise.
I immediately burst out laughing and spit out my drink all over myself upon the realization that this GROWN MAN had brought his mother on vacation with him. NOT TO MENTION he was talking about it openly at a party. The Diminutive Man immediately took note of me (mostly because I *literally* spit my gin and tonic across the bar) and yelled out, "Bartender, let me buy this woman another drink!" while winking. I laughed out loud again, because - FYI, GUY - it was an open bar. At that point I decided it was time to move on.
Party 2 Host: Some ski injury clinic in Salt Lake City Utah
Location: Harrah's Hotel
Goodies: Free Chapstick, and a vegetable plate
Honestly - this party was seriously something boring. First of all, it was attended by maybe 4 people, and they all knew each other, and they all knew I was clearly crashing. I could have cared less. I went in there, helped myself to some broccoli spears and a tube of vanilla flavored chapstick, and I walked out.
Party 3 Host: Arkansas Orthopedic Surgeon Fellows
Location: Harrah's Hotel
Goodies: Passed Hors D’Oeuvres which were not offered to me
Another party I walked into where it was clear that I did not belong. Imagine the coworkers on your team having a party in a conference room, and then imagine a person you've never even seen before in your entire life walking in and following the waitress around looking for a puffed pastry. I was that girl. I don't think I lasted 2 minutes there.
Party 4 Host: Some Orthopedic engineering company who manufacture metal rods
Location: W Hotel
Goodies: Free alcohol, and cake.
This party had been quite the event before I got there -- it was winding down just as I walked in. There had been so many people there that they had run out of ice and crystal glasses. I didn't care, and I took my drink without ice and in a plastic cup (college style). I walked around for a bit, and listened to some man explain the metal contraptions. He was boring me, so I just started picking up the contraptions off the table, and started winging them about. This did not go over well, and it wasn't too long before I felt it best that I leave the party, before I was forcibly removed.
Party 5 Host: Indiana Orthopedic Surgeon Fellows
Location: W Hotel
Goodies: Ice, and Crystal Glasses
AND YET ANOTHER PARTY where everyone knew each other, and I was standing there awkwardly by myself. I immediately went up to the bar and demanded that they replace my plastic glass from the last party with a crystal one, and that they provide me with some ice. After I was equipped with a proper looking drink, it took me about 4 minutes of standing alone and drunkenly swaying by myself to notice that not only was I the only person standing alone, but I was the only woman attending the party. So I did what any uncommon woman would do, and I proceeded to chat up the female janitor who was cleaning up. I confided in her that I was party crashing, and rather than kick me out, she told me that I should come back tomorrow night for even better parties We talked for a while -- I gave her my advice on law school (don't do it), she told me about how she was switching jobs, and we became BFFs, although I do not remember her name. Also - I was getting pretty drunk. Eventually when I noticed people pointing, staring, and talking about me, I decided it was, yet again, time to move on.
Party 6 Host: Chris Paul of the New Orleans Hornets
Location: Whiskey Blue
Goodies: Professional Basketball Players
Another new bff I made, the manager of the Whiskey Blue Bar, gave me the heads up that this party was going to be going down that night (it was CP3's girlfriend's birthday), so obviously I had to stay. It was AN ETERNITY before they actually arrived, but once they did, it was awesome. I went up to Chris Paul, and said the following to him:
"Thankyouforallyoudoforthecity :::BREATH::: YouAreShorterThanYouLookOnTVThatsSoCool :::BREATH::: IFollowYouOnTwitterIamLilLayne :::BREATH:::: BYE!!"
Another Successful interaction with a celebrity.
Needless to say, I think I have found my niche: Crashing Parties. It is something I genuinely enjoy doing. My friends and I were crashing weddings before the movie "Wedding Crashers" even came out. So, I think it is something I may do more of in the future. Stay tuned. Read more
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Day 2 of the AAOS Convention
Like the Terminator once said...."I'm BAACCK." Yes, I have returned to the AAOS convention DETERMINED that I will find a story in this mess.
I am still without a badge, and I'm not sure I will be able to get one, short of some sort of Oceans 11-esque plot involving balloons, sleeping pills, a doppelganger and a chef's uniform. However, I have learned that you do *not* need a badge to go into some room called the "Academy." In the the "academy" they have side-by-side televisions showing surgeries. If ever I was able to fool anyone into thinking I was a medical doctor, they would quickly realize "not so much" upon seeing my facial expression as I watch surgery on tv. Something like this:
Goals for the day:
1) Speak to one real life orthopedic surgeon
2) Find out if Dr. James Andrews (a/k/a the rock star surgeon who worked on Drew Brees' shoulder) is here
3) try to speak to Dr. Jams Andrews and thank him for putting Drew Brees back together
4) Get invited to a post-conference after party.
Not a tall order, right? Read more
I am still without a badge, and I'm not sure I will be able to get one, short of some sort of Oceans 11-esque plot involving balloons, sleeping pills, a doppelganger and a chef's uniform. However, I have learned that you do *not* need a badge to go into some room called the "Academy." In the the "academy" they have side-by-side televisions showing surgeries. If ever I was able to fool anyone into thinking I was a medical doctor, they would quickly realize "not so much" upon seeing my facial expression as I watch surgery on tv. Something like this:
Goals for the day:
1) Speak to one real life orthopedic surgeon
2) Find out if Dr. James Andrews (a/k/a the rock star surgeon who worked on Drew Brees' shoulder) is here
3) try to speak to Dr. Jams Andrews and thank him for putting Drew Brees back together
4) Get invited to a post-conference after party.
Not a tall order, right? Read more
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
An Open Letter to Darren Sharper
Dear Darren,
So I read in the Times Picayune that you aren't feeling "the love" from New Orleans. I've decided to do something about that.
Every time you intercept a football, I raise my arms in the air and scream and cry like a 3 year old at a Justin Bieber concert. Truth. I also stood out in the rain to watch you walk into the dvd red carpet "premiere" party at the Prytania. Did you see me? I was the one screaming, "DARREN SHARPER I LOVE YOU DARREN SHARPER."
Please don't leave New Orleans. I can't take all of these departures. When the news reported that Scott Fujita was going to Cleveland for a meeting, I thought of writing an open letter to him, pleading for him to say. I didn't, and we know how that ended. If you go, I may never be able to get out of my bed. Please. Don't go.
Love,
Lil Layne Read more
So I read in the Times Picayune that you aren't feeling "the love" from New Orleans. I've decided to do something about that.
Every time you intercept a football, I raise my arms in the air and scream and cry like a 3 year old at a Justin Bieber concert. Truth. I also stood out in the rain to watch you walk into the dvd red carpet "premiere" party at the Prytania. Did you see me? I was the one screaming, "DARREN SHARPER I LOVE YOU DARREN SHARPER."
Please don't leave New Orleans. I can't take all of these departures. When the news reported that Scott Fujita was going to Cleveland for a meeting, I thought of writing an open letter to him, pleading for him to say. I didn't, and we know how that ended. If you go, I may never be able to get out of my bed. Please. Don't go.
Love,
Lil Layne Read more
Well - time to throw in the towel
My battery power is almost gone, and the only thing I accomplished today was talking to some retirees (working as greeters) about their dislike of sushi, and how they think I should work at IHOP this summer. Things I need to acquire if I want to come back tomorrow:
1) A badge
2) Crutches (might make for a good conversation starter)
3) A sign that says, "Tell me the most entertaining thing about yourself that doesn't involve sutures"
4) More professional looking clothing
5) A Medical Degree
6) A flask filled with alcohol. Read more
1) A badge
2) Crutches (might make for a good conversation starter)
3) A sign that says, "Tell me the most entertaining thing about yourself that doesn't involve sutures"
4) More professional looking clothing
5) A Medical Degree
6) A flask filled with alcohol. Read more
Is my day coming to an end?
This convention appears to be coming to an end, and I have not spoken to one real life orthopedic surgeon yet!
I was hoping someone could check out my hamstring pull, preferably Dr. James Andrews. I mean, I did pull it while running a 5k...so that would make it a sports injury, right?
OMG. This table of 5 surgeons is sitting right next to me talking about....you guessed it: SUTURES. I would get bored of this real quick. Maybe I will come back tomorrow with a sign that says, "Tell me the most interesting thing about yourself that doesn't involve sutures." You think I will get any responses? Or will I be kicked out with a quickness?
Hey! I found something doctors and lawyers have in common!
We both write on yellow notepads! A commonality! But I thought doctors had terrible handwriting? Wouldn't smartphones or computers be better for them?
The suture talk continues next to me. I wonder if I start yelling out "SUTURE MALPRACTICE LAWSUIT LAWYER DAUBERT WITNESS LAWYER SUTURES MALPRACTICE" they might change their topic of conversation. Read more
I was hoping someone could check out my hamstring pull, preferably Dr. James Andrews. I mean, I did pull it while running a 5k...so that would make it a sports injury, right?
OMG. This table of 5 surgeons is sitting right next to me talking about....you guessed it: SUTURES. I would get bored of this real quick. Maybe I will come back tomorrow with a sign that says, "Tell me the most interesting thing about yourself that doesn't involve sutures." You think I will get any responses? Or will I be kicked out with a quickness?
Hey! I found something doctors and lawyers have in common!
We both write on yellow notepads! A commonality! But I thought doctors had terrible handwriting? Wouldn't smartphones or computers be better for them?
The suture talk continues next to me. I wonder if I start yelling out "SUTURE MALPRACTICE LAWSUIT LAWYER DAUBERT WITNESS LAWYER SUTURES MALPRACTICE" they might change their topic of conversation. Read more
Doctors v. Lawyers
These doctors are very tame in comparison to what I imagine a lawyer's convention of this size might be like.
I mean, I'm not going to lie -- my only frame of reference for how doctors behave is based on a study of "Grey's Anatomy" - so it might be somewhat skewed. But it is 4pm on a Wednesday of a week long convention. If these were lawyers, they would be drunk already. They would maybe even be carrying beers around them from lecture to lecture. But everyone here is very serious, and discussing "rate of infection" and comparing suture types. BORING.
Also - these doctors are too healthy. They are all eating salads. THIS IS NEW ORLEANS. As a tourist, if each meal doesn't contain something fried, you have already failed to experience the city to the best of your ability. Lawyers like to chow down. I've seen it time and time again -- given the choice between a free chik fil-et lunch, or a free "rolly polly" lunch, the law students are going to pick fried chicken.
I am tempted to yell out, "Where the after party at?!?!" in this crowded 'cafe'. Are these doctors even partying at night? Or do they go home and eat salads and watch tv programs about sutures? What about the doctors rocking jeans and leather jackets - they HAVE to be party animals, right? Read more
I mean, I'm not going to lie -- my only frame of reference for how doctors behave is based on a study of "Grey's Anatomy" - so it might be somewhat skewed. But it is 4pm on a Wednesday of a week long convention. If these were lawyers, they would be drunk already. They would maybe even be carrying beers around them from lecture to lecture. But everyone here is very serious, and discussing "rate of infection" and comparing suture types. BORING.
Also - these doctors are too healthy. They are all eating salads. THIS IS NEW ORLEANS. As a tourist, if each meal doesn't contain something fried, you have already failed to experience the city to the best of your ability. Lawyers like to chow down. I've seen it time and time again -- given the choice between a free chik fil-et lunch, or a free "rolly polly" lunch, the law students are going to pick fried chicken.
I am tempted to yell out, "Where the after party at?!?!" in this crowded 'cafe'. Are these doctors even partying at night? Or do they go home and eat salads and watch tv programs about sutures? What about the doctors rocking jeans and leather jackets - they HAVE to be party animals, right? Read more
Live from the AAOS
I am Live from the American Academy of Orthopedic Surgeons annual convention. Bringing in about 30,000 people, this is the largest convention to come to New Orleans since Katrina. It seemed like a pretty big deal, so obviously I wanted to gate-crash. Some observations:
1) There is not very much parity between men and women in this field. I would say the breakdown between men and women at this convention is approximately 70/30. I am so proud of the few women I do see that I want to go up to them and say, "You go girl!" but that would be creepy and uncomfortable.
2) According to a woman I just met, the exhibits here are really, really, really expensive and elaborate. I obviously am determined to get into the halls, but I am unsure of how I might go about doing that as they are very strict about having badges. She mentioned that she might be able to give me an extra badge...so let's keep our fingers crossed.
3) Everyone in here is wearing suits, and I am wearing jeans and carrying a backpack. Obviously I stick out like a sore thumb. There are *some* doctors here who have decided to eschew the normal professional dress protocol, and are rocking leather jackets/etc. These are obviously the more "badass" orthopedic surgeons. I obviously wish to befriend them.
4) I was sort of expecting all of the orthopedic surgeons to look like this:
For those of you who must obviously live under a rock, that is none other than Dr. Jack Shephard, from LOST. When I think about my dream future husband, I imagine him to look and act exactly like Dr. Shephard. But...the doctors at this convention look nothing like him. I am very disappointed.
5) You know what's a really fun game to pay while here? Go to a crowded hallway, and say the word "MALPRACTICE" at a really high volume. This one guy almost fell over himself trying to run away from me. Read more
1) There is not very much parity between men and women in this field. I would say the breakdown between men and women at this convention is approximately 70/30. I am so proud of the few women I do see that I want to go up to them and say, "You go girl!" but that would be creepy and uncomfortable.
2) According to a woman I just met, the exhibits here are really, really, really expensive and elaborate. I obviously am determined to get into the halls, but I am unsure of how I might go about doing that as they are very strict about having badges. She mentioned that she might be able to give me an extra badge...so let's keep our fingers crossed.
3) Everyone in here is wearing suits, and I am wearing jeans and carrying a backpack. Obviously I stick out like a sore thumb. There are *some* doctors here who have decided to eschew the normal professional dress protocol, and are rocking leather jackets/etc. These are obviously the more "badass" orthopedic surgeons. I obviously wish to befriend them.
4) I was sort of expecting all of the orthopedic surgeons to look like this:
For those of you who must obviously live under a rock, that is none other than Dr. Jack Shephard, from LOST. When I think about my dream future husband, I imagine him to look and act exactly like Dr. Shephard. But...the doctors at this convention look nothing like him. I am very disappointed.
5) You know what's a really fun game to pay while here? Go to a crowded hallway, and say the word "MALPRACTICE" at a really high volume. This one guy almost fell over himself trying to run away from me. Read more
Tuesday, March 09, 2010
Douglas Schantz: Body has been found
This morning, the body of Douglas Schantz was found underneath the dock near the steamboat Natchez.
The timing seems very weird to me because they said the found the body at around 10am, but there was no mention of the dead body on the 12pm news. The body was identified around 1:40pm.
What was going on in this man's head? He had to JUMP OVER A FENCE to get to the dock! Sequent Energy is publicly traded - I might take a peek at their SEC filings. Of course, I know so little about this thing that I don't know if I could tell if anything was off in the business. But maybe someone who knows more about company filings might take a look?
Also - WHOSE BODY DID THEY FIND IN GENTILLY? Still radio silence on that issue. Read more
The timing seems very weird to me because they said the found the body at around 10am, but there was no mention of the dead body on the 12pm news. The body was identified around 1:40pm.
What was going on in this man's head? He had to JUMP OVER A FENCE to get to the dock! Sequent Energy is publicly traded - I might take a peek at their SEC filings. Of course, I know so little about this thing that I don't know if I could tell if anything was off in the business. But maybe someone who knows more about company filings might take a look?
Also - WHOSE BODY DID THEY FIND IN GENTILLY? Still radio silence on that issue. Read more
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)